One Season
by Reda
Summary: Sequel to "One Month" Prussia and Canada have spent a season together and it is now spring. New life. New beginnings. And new challenges to face. When Prussia is confronted with an old love, his heart gets torn in two, and old memories pull him away from the one who truly loves him. Will Canada let him go or will he chase after the one he loves more than anything in the world?
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes****:**

-And so here's the sequel! Seriously, though, DON'T kill me. Go watch my PruCan anti-PruHun video instead (the link is on my profile). The One Month series is going to be four books long, by the way. The third one is probably the one that makes me cry the most. This one, eh, the middle section is kind of the silliest...Anyway, so, I separate this book into three parts. First part will probably make you want to kill something. Second part will make you roll with laughter. And third part will, well, give you some more fluffy-drama and one-world-government development. And there's two more books after this is over! Like lolwut? (Or actually I've been thinking of three books and then the last one splits off to all the different pairings; anyway! Enjoy?)

**Pairings****:** Focused around PruCan but also includes USUK, SpaMano, GerIta, and now with a twisted PruHun section.

**Warnings:**

-As warned about in the first book, there might be random made-up historical references, though I actually try really hard now to get things correct – and to get cultural facts correct.

-Rated M for a REASON! Granted, I do try to throw smut into their separate chapters so you can skip if you don't like it (or are under-age you naughty, horny teenagers! ;P). There will be hetero smut included in this sequel, so, eh, I'll warn you when we get there.

-Certain characters (*cough* Hungary *cough*) are twisted out-of-character a little or... you could say... not portrayed as they are normally portrayed.

**Summary****:**

-Sequel to "One Month"! Prussia and Canada have spent the season of winter together and it is now turning into spring. New life. New beginnings. And new challenges to face. When Prussia is directly confronted with an old love, his heart gets torn in two, and old memories pull him away from the one who truly loves him. How will Canada handle this new development? Will he sit back and let it happen – or will he chase after the one he wants more than anything else in the world?

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 1:

~!~

It was not the alarm clock that woke him up. Neither was it the loss of warmth as his lover left the bed, nor the sound of the shower in the bathroom. No, it was not the tweeting of a certain yellow chick, nor the meanderings of a curious polar bear sitting on the bed in the empty spot of the one who was now awake. He did not even shift his position on the bed when his lover left the shower, moved throughout the room, got dressed, and left with making hardly any noise.

No, Prussia didn't open his eyes until the familiar smell of pancakes filtered through the house. Sure, they ate plenty of other meals. Sometimes even Prussia cooked – yes he _did_ know how to cook, thank you very much. But the pancakes had become a habitual occurrence. Every morning without fail.

It was Gilbert Beilschmidt's new wake up call.

When the smell of pancakes began to waft through the house, Prussia smiled as he slowly left his sleep, eyes opening to stare up at the yellow chick perched on the headboard of the bed. Gilbird chirped a few notes, as if trying to join the birds outside in their song – not that Gilbird was ever really great at music. Prussia laughed at him like he always did. Gilbird fretted, fluffing his feathers, and snapping at him with uncouth words – like he always did.

Gilbert grinned at the bird, and then rolled out of the bed, stretching his arms up to the ceiling as he yawned out the last of his sleep. The iron cross necklace felt cool against his bare chest, but he didn't feel as cold as he had all winter; the temperatures were beginning to get up to what he preferred – much more suited to his sweatpants and no-shirt choice of night clothes.

Ruffling his own hair, he proceeded to grin and make his way out of the room. Bare feet, too. Canada called him crazy. Prussia knew it was only a matter of time before he could convince his Birdie to dress so comfortably. He didn't understand what was so necessary about socks or slippers or shirts or pajamas in general, but Matthew was almost always wearing his favorite red and white striped pajama outfit, complete with red felt socks.

In fact, Canada was still wearing the outfit when Gilbert made his way to the kitchen. He stopped by the doorway, smirking as he watched the blond-haired man work. An apron – pink of all things – but otherwise still in his night clothes. Even after the shower. Gilbert chuckled. There was a reason for _that_, he was sure.

Sliding across the floor, he managed to sneak up on his Birdie, wrapping arms around his middle in a sudden tackle. "Morning, Birdie!"

There was a little jump from the man he now held in his grasp and in the next few seconds, he could feel the muscles relax as the surprise left Matthew. "Morning, Gil."

"Smells delicious and awesome as usual," he said, planting a kiss on Canada's neck.

A shiver. "H-hey. What did I tell you about that?"

He smirked. "What? Did you tell me something?" Finding the same spot, he smacked his lips against the skin, opening his mouth to let his teeth nibble a little, too. "I'm hungry this morning..."

He could feel Canada go incredibly still, and he knew the man was closing his eyes and fighting the urge to give him any sound. It was cute. This little game of theirs. "I know." The words were clearly enunciated, as if it was taking all his concentration to keep them from wavering. "That's why I'm making pancakes."

"Ah, but I didn't say I was that kind of hungry," Prussia responded with another smirk, licking up Canada's neck this time before latching on for another ever-so-soft kiss.

Birdie let out a gasp, squirming around his hands. "G-Gil...I'm serious..."

Prussia chuckled as he pulled back, knowing he had won – again. Still, he held his hands up in mock surrender as he stepped back. "All right, all right. I'll just sit here and watch you." And with that, he sat on the table that was behind him, setting his hands on the edge of the furnished wood.

Turning his attention to the Canadian in front of him, he gave in to the man's pleas to be left alone. After all, he wanted breakfast at some point, and he could be satisfied for a while just by watching that ass. It was a little surprising when Birdie actually spoke. Usually, the man would pretend to ignore him until he was finished with the food, but this time...

"We could...after breakfast...if you want..."

It made him swell at first, and then blink, closing his eyes and opening them slowly when he remembered something Birdie had mentioned the other night in bed. "But don't you have that world meeting today?"

Matthew groaned, obviously not liking the reminder, either. "Oui, that's right." A sigh. "It's in America, so I can at least take my time." He turned around, then, both hands holding a plate each stacked high with pancakes. "I'll have to leave shortly after breakfast, eh."

Prussia reached out, grabbing one of the plates, feeling his mouth starting to water just at the thought of eating those delicious things. "So that's why you got dressed in that outfit again. Didn't want to mess up your suit?"

While Gilbert focused on slathering his pancakes in maple syrup, keeping an eye on the ever-watchful polar bear, Matthew made his way to his own chair across the table, nabbing the syrup bottle to pour a significant less amount than what Gil used. Gilbird had flown his way into the kitchen and was now hopping around the table, poking his beak into Prussia's syrupy pancake stack, as if taking little tastes of the sugary goodness. Although Gil had tried to tell the bird it was probably too sweet for him, the yellow chick did what he wanted with or without Prussia's approval, so there was no helping it. Just another daily occurrence.

"Oui. Like I said. I have enough time, and I don't want to appear at the meeting with syrup stains – or anything else," Matthew added, blue-violet eyes sending a teasing glare to Gilbert.

Smiling innocently, Prussia ignored the comment and instead focused on his meal, trying to shoo his greedy little chick away from _his_ syrupy sugary goodness. After his second bite, an idea crossed his mind, and he grinned. "Hey! I should come with you!"

Canada nearly choked on his forkful of food. "What?"

"Yeah!" Prussia said, closing his eyes, imagining the scene of him disrupting the annoying world conference. Of course he wouldn't be telling Birdie of those certain day-dreams. "It'd be awesome to see everyone again...and I could keep you company. Kesese~"

Looking across the table, he caught Birdie blushing. "I guess." And then a smile. "It _would_ be nice to have someone there."

"Exactly!" Prussia exclaimed, feeling himself actually getting excited over this idea. He hadn't seen a lot of his old friends or acquaintances in a _long_ time after all. "I mean, they probably wouldn't let me participate, but I could hang around and visit."

For some reason, Matthew seemed quite intent on his food. His eyes were distant. That common look that said he was thinking – or holding something back and debating about whether or not he wanted to mention it. Before Gilbert could question it, however, Canada piped up.

"All right," he said. "That sounds nice. Let's do it."

"Awesome!" Prussia grinned, wolfing down the last of his pancakes before standing up to walk over to the sink, deciding he would be different today and clean his dish. "What do you guys normally talk about?"

Before Canada could comment on his action, he instead had to focus on Prussia's question. The eyes went distant again, and then he sighed, shaking his head. "Honestly, not much. We _try, _I guess. Global warming. The Middle East. Who owes who what and how much...and then it just derails into a childish fight scene."

Prussia cackled, having a memory of a meeting with Austria and others. When Fritz was there. How the nations had to be basically held back from attacking each other right then, all of them at each other's throats, poised and ready to snap at the first insult. If not for their leaders, things could have easily gotten out of control. It was no wonder that world meetings derailed into wasted hours. Fritz had once commented that for having so many years, nations were nothing more than children when it came to delicate matters.

He shook his head at the memory, even as the smile stayed on his face, and focused instead on filling the sink with warm water and bubbles. Probably too many bubbles. But bubbles were awesome. He couldn't very well clean dishes without bubbles. Tossing his own plate in the water, he grabbed for the other dishes that Canada had used to cook with, and then turned around, holding a hand out for Birdie's plate, seeing it empty and ready.

Matthew was staring at him. "I'm confused..."

Rolling his eyes, Prussia turned around and splashed at the water, feeling bubbles bounce into his bare chest, grinning. "What? I felt like being helpful for once."

Sticking his tongue out, he received an eye twitch from Canada as his lover walked up and set his plate in the water, splashing some of the bubbles toward Prussia in the process. "I made the food, so I should clean up."

"Kesese~ but you always cook the food. I've gotta be useful somehow," he insisted, watching Birdie's face as he splashed the bubble water back toward Canada, not even caring that the sink was beginning to fill up rather high.

Staring at the white bubbles clinging to Matthew's red and white pajama top, Prussia missed Canada's next movement. The next thing he knew, though, he had water and soap in his eyes, bubbles clinging to strands of his hair and making lines down his bare chest, probably clinging to the iron cross as well. Stepping back and using his shoulder to get the soapy water away from his eyes, he blinked, chuckling when he saw that Birdie had turned the sink off.

"Kesese~" he laughed, catching the challenging gleam in those blue-violet eyes. "Why turn it off?" He asked, reaching over to catch hold of stack of bubbles and quickly dump them on top of Matthew's head.

Birdie yelped and then smirked at him, laughing a little as he splashed more water toward him. "It's going to overflow – that's why!"

"Bah!" Prussia responded, grinning as he reached for the sprayer near the facuet. "You're forgetting the best part!" He said, grabbing the hose and turning the water back on, spraying directly at his lover.

Who started laughing uncontrollably, raising his hands to block the water, even though he was beginning to get entirely soaked. "You're gonna get my floor all wet!"

"Aw, who cares? This is too much fun!" Gilbert said, even as he stopped spraying his lover and started to lower his arm, trying hard to keep the grin from his face – though he was sure Canada wouldn't suspect his grin anyway.

"You're not the one who has to go to a meeting soon," Matthew pointed out, lowering his hands when he realized Gil had stopped.

Which gave him just the opening he needed. "Ah hah!" He snapped, grinning wide yet again as he lifted the hose and sprayed at the wide open face. "Gotcha!"

Of course, Canada was surprised, jumping up and then losing his balance. Prussia dropped his weaponry in time to catch his Birdie, easily enough because Matthew had at least decided to fall against him. Reaching over to turn the water off for good, he cracked up in laughter, pleased to have Canada laughing with him – and just as hard, if not harder.

"Well, that was fun," he said, once he had calmed down enough to speak, looking down at the face buried against his wet chest.

Birdie giggled some more. "That was just – I can't even -"

As much fun as it was to hold onto his Birdie, soaked in water and covered in soapy bubbles, even the awesome Prussia knew when to get back to business. After running his hands through the now soapy blond hair, he pushed Canada back to his feet and sighed.

"...do you _have_ to go?"

The question sadly made Canada's laughter die down as he took breaths to calm himself and nodded. "Yeah. They tend to notice me only when I'm not there."

"Tch. Damn. I still don't understand how they can't notice you, by the way." He sighed again. "Well, I guess you better get ready."

There was a blink, then a smile. "You know, you really should be getting ready, too."

_I should get ready? What for? It's not like I -_

Closing his eyes, he ran a hand through his own soapy white spikes of hair. "Oh. Right," he mumbled. "I forgot I said I was coming along this time."

_Ugh. Why did I say that again? It's not like world meetings have any interest for me. Even if it would be cool to see all my friends again..._

A hand grabbed onto his and he opened his eyes to see Canada smiling wide, his eyes dancing like he was excited. Before he could say something, though, the man started to tug him out of the room, nearly dragging him to the bedroom. "Come on, then."

Prussia smiled and let himself get led. Once upon a time he may have cared, but not now, not here, not with his new love. "Are you sure we don't have time for more fun?"

That got him a blush. Something he always loved to see. "Maybe if I get bored at the meeting..."

For a moment, he found himself stunned. He hadn't expected Canada to say something so...kinky? Doing it while bored at the meeting? Didn't that mean finding a broom closet or empty room somewhere? Hmm...maybe a bathroom? He closed his eyes. Or _maybe_ on the world conference table. Under it. On top of it. Hell, in the room with the others watching!

Opening his eyes, he found Birdie with a towel draped over his head and another one in hand, which was quickly tossed toward him. Prussia grinned. "That would be _awesome_!"

The blush successfully grew, creating quite the red face. Matthew huffed and turned away from him, stripping out of his pajamas. "Gil, stop being a pervert."

Prussia laughed at that. The very idea of him _not_ being perverted. Taking the towel, he began to dry himself off. Yeah, so he didn't take a shower, but in his glory days baths and showers weren't so common place or expected every day, so it wasn't like he particular cared about it anyway.

When he noticed Matthew changing into nicer clothes – his aforementioned suit – Prussia frowned, draping the towel across his shoulders before walking over to the other closet in the room. The one that held all of his clothes, mostly T-shirts and jeans and sweatpants and...well...casual wear. He didn't really like to get dressed up too often. In fact, he started to reach for a shirt and jeans, but then paused, reminding himself that he wasn't just going to a world meeting – he was going to a world meeting _with Canada_.

"Hey, Birdie, what would you prefer me to wear?" He asked, a little miffed to feel the heat on his face.

Canada barely turned to him, working at the details of his own suit now. "Uhm...whatever you want is fine. Something nice would be preferred, though."

_Something nice. Verdammt. Guess I'll wear it..._

It took a bit of looking. After all, he hadn't dressed up in _years_ and the black suit tended to get lost among all the video game and cartoon shirts of shows and games he'd become obsessed with. It was a lot easier to hide the nicer clothes than one might think, especially considering the ratio. Anyway, once he found the suit, he brushed if off and started to work at slipping it on.

Once he managed to get mostly dressed, he looked up and caught Canada staring, which caused his face to heat once again. "That looks nice on you," Matthew murmured.

Fighting the blush, Prussia grinned. "Of course! Everything looks good on the awesome me, remember?" He tried to pose, but the stupid tie was being difficult.

_Never have been good at these things..._

And then Canada was in front of him, prying his hands away from the tie. "Here, let me help."

At first, Prussia stared, silent and watchful as his Birdie began to fix the stupid tie for him. With a somewhat complicated knot at that. He found himself smiling as he looked on, his eyes drifting to Canada's concentrated blue-violet gaze. For once, he decided to be a good boy and keep his hands off, too. Then Matthew had to look up at him, having finished with his task, and their gazes locked.

"Thanks," Prussia whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss he received was cute and innocent and not too much more than a peck. When he licked at Canada's lips to ask for entrance, he frowned as the man put a hand on his chest and stepped back. "Gil, we need to get going."

He let out a long exaggerated sigh this time. "Right. Work."

Canada simply giggled and grabbed his hand, "Come on, then. Don't you want to visit with everyone? It _has_ been a few months since you last saw your brother..."

Prussia grinned. "And Francis. And Antonio. And little Italy." Because Italy wasn't near as bad as he remembered him being. For whatever reason, he almost liked the silly little Italian now. "Oh, not to mention it would be fun to mess with Austria again."

He froze and then stumbled because Canada was still tugging him out of the house and down to the car. A name he hadn't thought of in a long, _long_ time hit his brain. A name he had thrown away to his memories. A name that _still_ made his chest feel weird even though he was quite happy with Matthew.

"What is it, Gil?" Birdie asked, having stopped at the car and let him go, looking across the hood of the car curiously when Prussia didn't get in right away.

Gilbert shook his head. He wouldn't mention it. If he was lucky, maybe he could avoid her, too. Because even he could recognize that the urge to see her again was beyond what it should be...

_Lizzy..._

~!~

_A/N: So the bubble-water fight scene was pulled from certain nights closing at my job. Anytime I was assigned dishes, I filled up the first sink with lots and lots and lots of bubbles – and would proceed to toss them at people, namely my brother or fiance' who also worked with me. Not to mention all the times having water fights with my brother, sister, and mother with the kitchen water spray hose-thingy (whatever it's called). Yeah, I don't care how old you are, bubbles are always awesome._

_Also: I need a picture for this story. Currently going to use the same one as the first book, but if I could find something where Canada and Hungary are fighting over Prussia...yeah...well...the chances of that are slim, aren't they? Ah well. _

_The chapter's a little shorter than I originally wanted, but the whole world meeting scene has __**so much **__I couldn't start it after hitting 3500 words...I don't like going too far over 6000 after all. Ah well. Next chapter, hm? At least this one gives you some nice, cute, FLUFF. And a lot of me rambling. Sorry about that._

_~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites/etc; I appreciate them all~_

_~Reda_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Notes****:**

-Seriously, seriously, seriously worried. Once read something about how every once in a while it's good to piss off your readers, a lot, but I don't know...This is pretty big... Thanks for all your reviews though! It's good to hear you're ready to handle whatever I throw at you!

-Also, world meeting, not historical, just...I threw it in Chicago because that's where the Obama Administration set the NATO meeting in 2012. Figured any world meeting would go there again, since it's Obama's home city.

-Oh my gosh, new characters to the story. Sealand, Hungary, and, and, well someone else in the next chapter ;O

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love is Complicated

Chapter 2

~!~

"The Prime Minister will be there, too. I'll have to meet up with him before anything starts," Canada was saying as they climbed out of the car, handing keys to a valet who merely glanced at the badge Matthew was now wearing.

There was another glance, too. One directed to Prussia. The typical widening of the eyes and then quick glance away, as if Prussia's albinism was something to not be gawked at. It happened every time he came in contact with a human. They weren't as accustomed to him, especially not now. Back when he had power, powdered wigs had been in style, so it wasn't near as shocking to see his white hair, and the red eyes didn't always stand out on their own.

Still, he was used to the human reaction now, and as long as he wasn't going to be outside for an extended period of time – he could handle not wearing anything to cover up. Matthew had immediately shot down his mumbled request for a hat and sunglasses. After all, they were going to a world meeting. Even if the nations wouldn't care, the humans in power _would_ and heaven forbid if someone actually _noticed_ him again.

"Right, right," Gilbert muttered as Canada grabbed his hand and began to lead him around again. "I'll find some place to hang out until the meetings are over."

Birdie smiled back at him as they walked up steps into some important American building that Prussia didn't really care to look at. "I'm sure you'll find something to entertain yourself with."

Gilbird peeped up, having found a roost in Prussia's silvery hair. _"Give him a broom handle and an iPod and he'll be fine."_

A blush hit his face at his bird's reveal, but Canada laughed so he let it go. He loved to see his Birdie laugh. He gave a semblance of a shrug – more difficult to do than you would think, what with Matthew still holding his hand. "Like I said, I'll find something to do."

Once inside the building, Canada slowed his steps and dropped his hand, taking a moment to speak with a few of the humans in the area. Prussia stood back and folded his arms, watching carefully. He would always be watching carefully from now on. No one was trustworthy. In fact, it was a little amazing to see how easily Matthew slipped into conversation with them. Some of the nations might have grown a hatred for humans after what had happened. Even Prussia preferred to stay away from them.

...but not Canada.

No, the man must have been quick to forgive. Or not one to even think about placing blame. Because he just kept on with his job, kept talking with the humans in politics, kept living life like nothing had happened. Even if Prussia knew, deep inside, Matthew was still coping. He had been woken up in the middle of the night too many times now to simply brush it off and call Birdie recovered, but he understood that; he understood it – and a part of him might have been glad to be able to cling to someone else, even though he never spoke about his own nightmares.

After a few boring minutes of watching his Birdie interacting with the humans, Prussia finally got attention from Canada. Birdie left the human circle and smiled as he walked over to him. "So, technicalities taken care of. Did you want to try to find your brother?"

Prussia felt his face flip into an instant grin. "Hells yeah," he said, keeping his voice down even if he had the urge to shout.

Matthew grinned back and then turned, not grabbing his hand this time. "Well, come on."

"Kesese~" Prussia laughed, quickly stepping up to follow Birdie down the hallways of the stupid American building. "You like telling me what to do?"

He was pretty sure he got a blush for his efforts, but another voice successfully distracted him. "_Bruder_?"

"West!" He exclaimed, turning his eyes up to actually pay attention to where they were walking. He found West standing dumbfounded in the middle of the otherwise empty hallway, and he chuckled. "What? Surprised to see me?"

Germany blinked, folding his arms. "_Ja_, I am, to be honest."

Prussia cackled, leaving Canada to go greet his brother, even though he kept himself behaved, keeping his hands in his pockets so they wouldn't betray him. "I figured Birdie could use some fun time during your breaks. Besides, I don't think I've ever actually been to one of these things -"

West simply smiled and shook his head, blue eyes quickly losing their surprise for something else. Something else. What was that look about? Birdie had given it to him earlier. The roaming eyes as if he were debating whether or not to share information. This time, Prussia frowned, and opened his mouth to ask what was going on.

But then West decided to spill. "Since you're here, why don't you attend the meeting that the micro-nations are having?"

Which told him nothing and only succeeded in confusing him further. He blinked. Several times. "Err...what?"

A nod. "_Ja_. You're a micro-nation now. _New_ Prussia."

At the nation name, Gilbert felt something pulse in his chest. A little extra feeling of something he had long ago lost. He was still confused about it, though, and the old familiar feeling didn't really explain any _how_ or _why_ or _what exactly West was talking about_.

"...I have a nation again?"

West was smiling now. _Really_ smiling. Even though Prussia kept staring with blinking, dumbfounded eyes. "_Ja_. Descendants from your empire days have also seemed to take a liking to your new home." A hand reached out, held his shoulder, squeezing down. West's silly little close-but-not-too-close gesture. "Congratulations."

And then it hit him. The pulsing in his chest. The extra bundle of emotions. The hum echoing in his mind. All things nations learned how to block out but hold to when necessary. The touch of his people. Only a nation could get that feeling. Only a...

His grin split his face in half and he let loose by tackling his brother in a hug. "West! West! I'm a nation again!"

He felt like dancing around. He felt like partying. Like screaming it at the top of his lungs. It was amazing. It was...it was like a dream. A dream come true. When he felt his brother reach around to hug him, too, patting his back, he nearly lost it. Tears hit his eyes. The emotions were overwhelming. And _his people. _He could say it again. _His _people! Yeah, the pulse was small, but it was there – it was _there_.

"_Ja,_" West said, "It's great."

Laughing, Gilbert broke away from his brother, eyes latching onto Matthew who had stepped back and was smiling at him. He jumped over to his Birdie's side and grabbed his hands, his legs unable to stay still, dancing around because he couldn't contain the excitement. "Birdie, did you hear?"

Matthew laughed, squeezing his hands. "Oui. I've known for a while." A playful glare was sent over Prussia's shoulder, probably aimed toward Germany for spilling the news. "I meant to tell you later today, but..."

His legs stopped but the grin stayed. And the swell in his chest. He kept his hands in Canada's, too as he chuckled. "Aw, you were going to make it a surprise? Kesese~ That's kind of sweet, Birdie," he said, leaning in to kiss Matthew on the cheek.

It earned him a blush. "It really is great, isn't it?"

And then West had to go and clear his throat. "Come on, then. The meeting is about to start."

Prussia turned around, sending a pout to his brother. "Always one for business, aren't you? Won't even let me enjoy the moment."

To his surprise, West winced, which made him feel bad because he hadn't meant to make that happen. But then Germany shook his head, sighed, and gave him a short smile instead. "All right. You can have your fun, but don't take too long."

"Kesese~" Gilbert laughed, and then dropped his grin for a straight face. "Wait. What's a micro-nation?"

This time Canada winced. What on earth was wrong with asking _that_? "Well, a micro-nation is a nation that's not exactly...uhm...recognized...by governments around the world."

Prussia felt his grin fall. "Oh. So not _really_ a nation." The feeling in his chest swelled and he found the wide grin returning. "Kesese~ my people are awesome enough to go against the rules of dissolution and try to make a nation again anyway." _My people...I can say that again...I can really say that again..._ "That's awesome."

Birdie smiled back at him and gave a nod. "They are. And who knows, maybe someday you'll be recognized."

And then there was a kiss. Hands held onto his own, keeping him at bay, but it didn't matter. Emotions exploded and he felt tears hitting his eyes again. Little things. Not that he was going to cry, but it made his eyes water. The old familiar feeling in his chest. He could reach out and touch it and they would actually _be there_. He hadn't felt this since...since...

He licked at the lips against his own, and was granted entrance. He didn't know how long they stood there. How long they kissed in the hallway of the the human's important building. But he heard West clear his throat, as if telling them to quit. Closing his eyes, Prussia blocked everything else out. There was just him, Birdie, and his people.

_Gott, his people..._

Hands squeezed his own and then another hand touched his shoulder, forcing him to open his eyes, especially when Ludwig's voice came so close to his ear. "_Bruder_, seriously, the meeting is going to start soon."

With a groan and a sigh he broke away. "Right, right," he muttered, turning a smile to his Birdie with the flushed face and panting breaths. "So...where do micro-nations...sit?"

"They have...their own room," Canada said, still blushing. "England said that since we had enough trouble with America, it seemed like the best course of action."

"Aw, we have to separate?"

"Oui," Canada responded with a nod, lifting up to kiss his cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

And before he could say anything else, Prussia found himself once again getting led around by the hand. Fingers clutched to his, holding tightly as Matthew moved down the hallway. A quick goodbye to West. A couple of turns. A few nods at humans with raised eyebrows. And then Canada stopped before a door with a rather childish looking sign plastered on the front, as if it had been colored in – upon closer inspection, Prussia saw that it _had_ indeed been colored in crayon.

He frowned. "This is going to be boring as hell."

Letting his hand go, Canada shrugged. "Well, I'm sure if you get bored, you can just go to sleep." A sigh. "We're going to be over God-knows-when."

Prussia made a face. "Just tell America to shut up and focus for once."

"If only it would work that way," Birdie giggled before lifting up to once again kiss him on the cheek. He was starting to like these small gestures. These cute innocent kisses that had once driven him mad were now something he almost looked forward to every day. "Try not to kill anyone, okay?"

He chuckled. "I can't make any promises."

Birdie simply rolled his eyes as he pulled away, walked away, looking for everything like he wanted to stay even though he knew he couldn't. "Good luck, Gil."

Prussia grinned and shrugged, giving a little wave once he was sure no one was in the hallway – and that Canada was too far away with his back turned to even see it. Then, he took a breath and turned back to the door, grimacing, wondering what in the seven hells he was going to find in here.

"Well, let's get this over with," he mumbled to Gilbird, who was sleeping in his hair and gave no response.

Grabbing the door handle, he walked inside, seeing a somewhat small round table sitting in the center of the room. There were of course pictures along the walls and the carpet was just as nice as the hallway, but the empty chairs caused him to frown. As well as the little kid that perked up at his entrance. Blue and white sailor outfit. He furrowed his brow, trying to think of who it could be, and then remembering he had no clue about this micro-nation deal.

"Whoa! Hey there! Other nations aren't supposed to be here! Didn't you read the sign? Micro-nations only!" The kid jumped up, looking up at Prussia for all the world like he was trying to stare him down.

Gilbert could only blink back. "Hey, squirt, I was told to come here."

"Why would you be told to come here?" The kid questioned, standing directly in front of him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Until the thought must have connected in his tiny little brain. "Are you a micro-nation, too?"

Prussia grinned, still not entirely sure how he felt about this new development but deciding to roll with it anyway. "Yep! The Awesome Prussia is making a come back because my people and fans are just that awesome."

"Well, I'm Sealand, and since I'm the leader of this group, you're now my younger brother!"

Prussia stared at him. Blinked. Stared some more. Then cracked up with laughter, having to wipe tears from his eyes and hold his sides. "What? I'm no one's younger brother. And wouldn't you be a little...young to be _my_ older brother, anyway?" He reached out to show the definite pint-sized height of this kid, this Sealand.

The kid scowled, obviously not amused. "Well, I've been in this situation longer than you, so I'm your older brother and that's that!"

With a roll of his eyes, Prussia waved his hand in the air and let it pass. "Whatever. It doesn't really work like that, but whatever. Believe as you wish."

Walking around the brat, he made his way to the small round table and plopped into a chair, leaning back almost immediately. Sealand jumped around to sit next to him, blue eyes staring at him. "Well, we still have to wait for Seborga. He's always late. And Wy never shows up to these things anyway."

_I don't blame him...or her...what kind of name..._

"Who?" He found himself asking, determined to at least learn something before taking a nap.

Sealand sat back in his chair, making hand gestures against the table as he talked. "Well, Seborga's a city in Italy that became independent, and Wy is similar except she has received acknowledgment from Australia."

_Oh? Received acknowledgment and still not a real country?_

Prussia groaned. This was not at all what he had been expecting. He was almost wishing for a broom and iPod to jam out to now. Anything would be better than sitting here with a little child talking about stupid things. Learn who the other micro-nations are, and then proceed to ignore Sealand for the rest of the however-long-this-was-going-take.

Yeah, he was officially bored already.

~!~

Elizaveta Héderváry managed to rush out of the meeting room this time, hardly sparing a word for her President. It was always awkward having world meeting discussions, anyway. Sometimes their leaders left them in a separate room just so they could fight amongst themselves and not cause a disruption – because, honestly, most of the nations were still such _children_. She was pretty certain that he did not want to speak with her; no, he was probably much more interested in interacting and meeting the other leaders of the world. Who cared about the ones who were actually the nations?

She had another reason for wanting to leave as quickly as possible, though. A real reason. Whispers had fluctuated and notes had been passed – as they always were when the nations had to meet in the same room as their leaders. This was how they passed rumors back and forth. It was almost like children sending angry text messages sometimes, at least when she read the things passed between France and England, for example.

Most of the time she didn't catch anything worth while. She liked to learn about juicy relationship stuff, especially when it involved two nations. Since most of them were male and it was undeniably _cute_ to see them together. Then again, most of the nations who were worth working to pair up were already together, so the most she got to see were a few stolen kisses in moments when they thought no one else was watching – after all, such behavior at a world meeting would _not_ go unnoticed by the human populace. America was specifically good at catching England off balance – at least when the brat wasn't busy repeating everything his leader said.

This time, however, a little piece of information had gotten her excited. Apparently, _Prussia_ had decided to show up to the meeting. With Canada of all people. Once she found out, she had been sending glares to the little nobody nation – well, technically, he was the second largest nation in the world, but she still saw him as this little shy nobody. How in the _world_ had such a person managed to snatch Prussia away from her? Didn't he know that Gilbert was _hers_ to play with?

Seeing an opportunity to rectify a certain situation, Elizaveta had rushed out of the meeting room as fast as she could without running or letting on that she was in a hurry. She was pretty sure Canada would be shortly behind her, unless he managed to get caught up talking to humans or other nations. Which she was hoping for. She had a little old friend to visit before Matthew Williams had a chance to interrupt. Ever since Japan had passed the picture of Canada and Prussia kissing in the hallway...she had felt the urge to find Gilbert and make him remember who he really belonged to.

...especially considering his now micro-nation status. As a micro-nation, he had to belong to one of the other nations. He was not truly independent, not really recognized. Micro-nations were always talked about alongside the nation they were closely represented with. Sealand, for example, was always considered England's. Seborga was Italy's. And Wy was Austrailia's. America even had a micro-nation – Molassia – though that one never showed up to any meeting and wasn't even worth talking about most of the time.

Prussia, however, if he was going to be a micro-nation, it meant he could be claimed. It meant he was open, because Hungary was quite certain that he had no idea what his new status meant. Even if the land was technically in Canada, he still had to say he was a spin-off of the Canadian people. Or the Prussian people who had immigrated to the area or whatever silly explanation he wanted to come up with. He was still open for being claimed, though; which meant that she would not be the only one seeking to grab his assets. Russia had been smiling strangely for the entire meeting, too.

Well, she was going to pounce first, and she was pretty certain that it would simply be another matter of toying with his heart. Easy, easy game. With all their history? With their friendship? With the way he had been trying to look up her skirt just the last time she saw him? Yeah...this wouldn't be a problem at all.

Making her way to the room Sealand had claimed for micro-nations, she was pleased to find Prussia stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind him and sighing, staring at the floor. Hands in his pockets, suit jacket open – amazing, he was actually dressed nicely – he grumbled. "That was almost insulting."

_Almost, Gilbert? I expected more out of you._

Smiling as cheerful as she could, she stepped closer to him, putting her hands behind her back for now. "I'm surprised you even showed up, _Gilbert_."

His eyes snapped up immediately and she could see the rush of emotion hit him. She could _see_ it. True, she knew what to look for. The gasp of breath. The widening red eyes. The slight flush in those pale cheeks. His eyes actually glanced away and he swallowed nervously, setting a hand behind his head.

"Uh, hi, Lizzy," he muttered before catching himself and turning back to face her with his wide grin, shutting his eyes. Still avoiding her gaze on purpose. "I couldn't keep my awesomeness away forever, you know."

She kept her smile, made it wider if she could, and then chuckled as she took a step or two forward, her dress almost knocking into his legs. "Still the same, aren't you, Gilbert?"

The flush in his face grew, spreading most noticeably across his nose and in his cheeks. "Of course. Awesomeness never changes," he stated, though his voice wavered a bit and he now backed up, trapping himself against a wall next to the small meeting room door.

She grinned, moving closer until she was practically on top of him. She could almost see the sweat on his brow. "Did you miss me at all?"

He gulped and looked away, turning his head completely, eyes staring down the hallway. "Tch. No."

A denial. She could recognize that denial anywhere. He had friends telling him not to trust her. He had friends telling him to stay away. His friends were always left to pick up the pieces when she was finished with her games, after all. But he always crawled back. He couldn't get rid of his feelings, not that easily, not with all their history. She was his friend, too, after all.

Lifting up on her toes, she took her chance to whisper in his ear. "I think you did~"

The blush grew across his face and he finally turned back to face her, finally met her eyes. She kept her gaze as innocent and as _wanting_ as she could make it. With him, it wouldn't be too hard. Even as he kept his hands down, as if still denying himself, as if still fighting the pull to act.

"Why now?" he whispered.

She smiled and stared back at him, blinking slowly, letting her long eyelashes fall and rise at a noticeable speed. "Because I missed you," she whispered back, a hand reaching out to grab at his tie and tug him down.

Their lips crashed against each other. She hummed the instant she got the chance to feel him against her again. It _had_ been a while. At least he wouldn't be able to deny her now. For whatever reason, he was successfully falling for her again. It was almost too easy.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw a certain Canadian walk around a corner and freeze. She fought the urge to smirk even as her mind screamed in victory. And then Gilbert did the most absolute perfect thing he could have done. He reached out and held onto Hungary, shuddering against her, even as he pulled her in close and deepened their kiss. It was honestly way too easy.

Once Canada had turned and run off, like a little high schooler upset over a little kiss – as expected – she pulled back from Gil and turned her smirk into a strong smile. "Well?"

Gil was still staring at her, panting lightly, eyes lost in a familiar haze. "Well what?"

"Was that like everything you've hoped?" She asked, sliding a hand down his chest, feeling satisfied when he twitched; lord, she could almost feel the heat from here. "Because I know you've been thinking of me."

"Oh yeah?" Gil snapped back, but the tough-guy attitude was lost when his voice cracked. "How do you know that?"

Her eyes flashed before she could hold it back, but she smiled sweetly and he didn't seem to have caught anything. Good. He was so oblivious to her ploys, this was almost too perfect. "Because I know you, Gilbert."

_I know you. And you're mine. Must I always remind you? You don't belong to anyone else but me. Why, why, why are you with that Canadian? Why do you have a micro-nation popping up in his territory? Hm? Do I have to force you to realize you belong only to me? _

_You don't belong to anyone else. Not your brother. Not Russia. Not this new Canadian fling. _

_You belong to me. _

~!~

_A/N: I honestly squeed like a fangirl after writing "West! West! I'm a nation again!" And if I had a Prussia plushie I'm sure I would have squeezed it to death. By the way, whether or not "New Prussia" actually exists or existed as a micro-nation (because that's been debatable and so difficult to find out any real information), I'm still using the idea for this story because it's too ajfkdjlfkdjarlkeruieaofjdkal fjeruaoifjd not to... Deal with it ~_

_-lol Sealand-_

_-and omigosh Hungary is...possessive? Jealous? Honestly, I love her and I hate her. At least this version of her. Incredibly way too much fun to write from her point of view, though. __Not to mention, there's like three different ways to spell her name? What is up with that? I chose one and went with it, and now it just looks weird._

_-I'm of the opinion that Japan and Hungary totally spy on the other nation relationships; hence why Japan is mentioned here as taking a picture of PruCan kissing; I don't know; just something funny that's grown on me from the fandom, I suppose._

_-One last note: I wanted to fit all of the world meeting scenes in one chapter, but then I'd have about 10,000 words and that's WAY over my personal limit for a chapter. 4000-6000 is a nice average, I think. So there. Here's 4700-word chapter. And the next one should be just as long. Though the one after that...eh..._

_~~Thank you for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate them all! I try to reply but I'm usually so caught up in writing or schoolwork, I can't think up any nice response other than "thank you for the review" so this little blurb is my way of letting you know, that yes, I love your reviews and sometimes I respond, sometimes I don't, depends if I have an immediate response in mind or not; still love you though~~_

_IAmaCat: Glad to see you still on board for the sequel and I feel so bad for all the heart-breaking that will occur (except the author side of me is like 'yes yes yes mwhahaha me likes it when i twist your emotions')_

_~Reda_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Notes****:**

-Ahh, it's like, I want to talk about the stuff I'm role-playing, but I can't. I can't...Oh, and this chapter should _prove_ that Canada is experiencing character development. Always moving forward~

-One small step at a time –

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love is Complicated

Chapter 3

~!~

He couldn't believe it. After everything they had been through together, after everything they had done. After all the confessions. After the misunderstanding and the make-up. After...after...all...

Matthew Williams numbly walked back into the main hall, stopping once he was inside, staring at the ground, at his feet, at nothing at all. Why? Why was Gilbert kissing her? Didn't Prussia love _him_? Hadn't he said that for so long? Hadn't he said he always meant what he said...and that he loved Canada? So...why...

_I gave you a micro-nation, Gil! I gave you some of my land so you could become something! I wanted you to be happy and you...you..._

_WHY?_

There were tears in his eyes but he wasn't just sad. He was angry. Upset. He felt betrayed and it hurt. He had given so much to him. Given so much to the crazy albino. Why would he go and kiss her, hold her, like _that_?

He didn't realize he had screamed – or squeaked – or made some noise of some kind – until America's voice was right beside him. "What's up, bro?"

Lifting his head, Canada looked up at his brother and shook his head. England was the only other one in the room, but still, he didn't want this to be the new gossip spreading through the nations. Oh, yes, let everyone know how Prussia toyed with Canada and then skipped back to that Hungarian _bitch_. Canada squeaked again as the rude thought crossed his mind, realizing how upset he was, how angry, how...

"I-I don't want to talk about it." Glancing away again, he shut his eyes. _Dieu, I have to go back home alone now._ He clutched Kumajiro to him, tightly hanging on to the one that never left him, the polar bear who had been with him since childhood. "Can I – can I maybe stay with you for a while?"

He didn't want to go home. Didn't want to deal with the memories. Not yet. Prussia's clothes, Prussia's scent, Prussia's flute, his...everything...it was all still at Canada's house. Would he leave it there? Or would he come back for it? Well, if Gilbert came back for his stuff, Matthew would be sure to leave it out on the porch for him, but there would be no conversation. One time running out, one misunderstanding – that he could handle, that he could forgive. This? This pain? This heart ache? No, it would take a lot for him to accept the lying, cheating...

America's voice thankfully interrupted his thoughts before they could drift into rude comments again. "Stay with me? Uh, sure, bro, but why?"

"I just don't want to go home right now," he mumbled.

"Uh, okay," and of course Al wouldn't understand and would instead just turn to England and shrug.

Arthur gave a nod and walked over closer to the both of them, focusing on Matthew. "Are you certain you do not wish to talk about it?"

Without a word, Canada nodded back, clutching ever tighter to Kuma-something-or-other. For the moment, he wanted to forget about what he saw. He wanted to forget it all. Forget everything. From the silly water fights to the ridiculous obsession with maple syrup to the hilarious failure at ice-skating to... Tears were hitting his eyes again and it was starting to annoy him. He was missing Gilbert. Already. He was upset and angry and mad and still...

America sighed. "Dude, I don't know what the problem is but whenever you want to talk about it, you just have to -"

And he was interrupted by a familiar little tweeting bird, who rushed into the room and flew above Matthew's head, nearly screaming his message. _"It's not his fault!"_

Glaring up at the bird, he seethed. "How is not his fault? Did you not see what he was doing? He just loved it!"

America, of course not understanding a thing, blinked. "Who? What?"

But Gilbird didn't seem to be giving up, flapping his wings and hovering in the air in front of Canada's face. _"It's more complicated than that."_

"How is more complicated?" Matthew snapped. "He thought I wasn't looking so he went and kissed that bitch!" Once the word actually passed his lips, he felt his eyes widen and slapped a hand over his mouth. _I can't believe I just said that..._

And that was when America slammed his hands on the table. "Are you talking about Prussia? Did he just cheat on you?" Looking over at his brother and proceeding to ignore the tweeting bird, he found the blue eyes harden significantly behind his glasses, his eyebrows lowering. "Where is he?"

Shaking his head, Canada backed away, pushing himself against the wall, dropping Kuma-whatever to the ground. England was the one to sigh and try to bring order to the room. As always. Setting a hand on America's shoulder. "All right, I think we all just need to calm down."

But America wasn't finished. "I'm going to dissolve that motherfucker and send him back to Russia again. And he can stay there."

Matthew's eyes went wider at the image, at the threat, not believing Prussia deserved something so terrible even after...but Arthur was the one to speak, standing close to Alfred and probably being the only voice able to break through to America since Canada was having a hard time finding his voice right now.

"America, listen, you don't even know the whole story yet."

"Does it matter?" Alfred snapped, stepping away from the table and then beginning to storm out of the room. "This is my bro we're talking about. Nobody hurts my bro."

As Alfred walked past him, England turned to Canada, catching Matthew's eyes quickly. "Matthew, you have to stop him. Lord knows how much damage he could cause!"

Unable to make his feet move – the numb feeling was starting to spread – Canada simply reached out with his arm and forced words past his lips. "A-Al, wait!"

He saw his brother freeze, noticed the hands clench. "I swear, if you tell me to spare him..."

"I -" Canada cut off, looking, searching for the words to explain his feelings. His mixed up heart trying to find a reason, yet still...still... "He might have been cheating on me, but...I still love him." _Yes, I do. I can't forget it all. He might be able to, but I just can't!_ "And the last thing I want is to see him hurt!"

Alfred stared at him for a while. Their eyes met. The glasses reflecting in the light, but they could still see each other, they could still read each other, and after a moment, Al sighed and turned around. "Then what can I do?"

It was Arthur who answered, stepping up to stand in front of America. "Just be there for him. He's going through a lot right now."

America sighed. "Right. Be a big brother." Finally seeming to cool down, Alfred crossed his arms and turned to his brother. "So, you wanna bunk at my place?" Canada nodded, and America grinned. "We could play video games or something. I got this new game from Japan..."

But Matthew was already shaking his head, trying to ignore the fluttering yellow chick that was still in the room, still defending Prussia's actions. "Not this time, Al. I just want to go to sleep." He glanced to the side and mumbled, "And wake up from this nightmare."

"Well, okay then," Al said, though Matthew hardly heard because Gilbird was making a loud show of peeping and leaving the room, like he had given up, like he was just as upset as Canada. "What's up with the bird?"

With a sniff, Canada wiped at his eyes even if they were mostly gone, mostly just those tears that came from the heart ache, the betrayal, the anger, and the slow, sad acceptance. "He's Gilbird and...he was trying to tell me that it wasn't Prussia's fault."

"Well, at least his bird is loyal." Canada flinched at the words, even if he could agree. "Wait, you could understand that?"

With a blink, Matthew tilted his head. "Oui. Couldn't you?"

"N-no, dude, I don't understand animals."

"Well, normally I don't, either," Canada tried to explain. "I just figured he was like Kumataru."

America laughed, then, as if something was funny. "Huh, weird." And then he proceeded to nudge Arthur in the stomach. "Better than a flying mint bunny, though."

England jumped up immediately, his eyes wide and face a little flushed. "You take that back! Flying Mint Bunny is no more transparent than your brother!"

"Haha, no, dude. No one ever sees your make believe creatures, okay?"

America went on, continuing to tease Arthur, but Canada had to leave. He didn't want to see a happy relationship right now. He didn't want to hear jokes and teasing. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to forget. So, he picked up his polar bear once again and slid out of the room, thinking he would just take a cab to America's house and be alone, sort things out, calm down, think...wonder _why_.

~!~

Meanwhile, Prussia was still lost in his old day-dream-come-to-life when Gilbird suddenly entered the scene, loud and upset about something. It took him a moment, but he eventually caught the words of "Canada" and "Matthew" and "Birdie." And then it hit him. What was he doing kissing up with Hungary? Why was he sitting here falling for her all over again? He had someone who loved him waiting -

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, pushing Elizaveta away from him. "I forgot about Birdie!"

Gilbird made an exasperated noise and flitted down to land in his hair again, but Hungary froze him in his steps by the hurt in her voice. "Birdie?"

Turning to face her, he set a hand behind his head, grinning sheepishly, like a child trying to explain why he was in trouble. "Ah, yeah, Canada. He's kinda, well..."

How to explain? How could he look at _her_ and tell her that he loved someone else? When it was so very obvious that his heart was caught by her beauty, by her smile, by those eyes staring up at him...Like before, like he had wanted for so long, like he had dreamed of for years...

"Kind of what, Gil? He doesn't mean more to you than me, does he?"

Prussia flinched at the question. He couldn't answer that. _He_ didn't know the answer to that. Especially not with his bird shouting at him in his ear, tweeting so fast it was coming out as nonsense. "Uhm...well..." He had only known Birdie for a few months whereas he had known his love for Hungary for _years_, _centuries_. It was _impossible_ to just simply erase those feelings, not when he had gone so far as to ask her to marry him.

"_She turned you down, remember?"_ Gilbird snapped.

Prussia lowered his hand at the reminder, forcing his eyes to narrow, forcing himself to see reason, to see logic. "You did kind of reject me, you know."

She looked away from him, seeming sad. Even though Gilbird was yelling at him to move, to leave her, Prussia couldn't move. He wanted to know. He wanted to know her response. Why deny him all those years ago if she was only going to come to him now?

"That's only because I was with Austria," she finally muttered.

Every bone in his body seemed to tense. It wasn't enough. It definitely wasn't enough. Austria over him. Always had been. Always had...He scoffed at her, still ignoring Gilbird's pleas to move. "Stuck with Austria? C'mon, Lizzy, I know you better than that." Crossing his arms, he stared at her, still wanting a better explanation, though he made sure to avoid her eyes. If he saw her eyes again, it would be too hard to pull away. "You don't let anyone hold you back from what you want."

"I can't believe you would think of me like that," she whispered, a single tear falling from her eyes.

_I...I...I thought that was a compliment! Damn women!_

"Lizzy..." Staring at the tears, he found himself catching her gaze and all the emotions that welled up with it. All the memories. All the moments. Uncrossing his arms, he took a step back toward her, but then Gilbird chirped at him again. _"Matthew needs you." _Feeling like his heart was getting torn in two, he froze, clenched his hands, and spun around. "Stop playing with me. I have someone that actually needs me now."

A sound of a sob reached his ears and he froze again, his entire body tensing just at the thought that he had made her cry. He didn't like to see people cry. He hated it. Hated, hated, _hated_ it. That's why he had worked so hard to get Matthew to stop doing it so much. That's why...he...couldn't...breathe...at hearing _her_ crying...because of _him_.

"Please don't do this to me. I'm sorry I said no all those years ago. I realize now how stupid and wrong I was."

That did it. His heart soared. All other thoughts were forgotten. She wanted him back. She _really_ wanted him back! Spinning back around, he rushed back to her, wrapping his arms around her, smelling her hair, letting it all come back to him. Letting it all be how he had wanted. Like a dream. Everything. She was here. She _wanted_ him.

"_Gott_, Lizzy, I've never stopped loving you."

He could feel her relax in his arms, leaning against him. _Gott_, leaning against him. "Oh really, Gil? Honest and true?"

What? She wanted confirmation from _him_? Didn't she know that he had always loved her. Through all the ups and downs. All the games. All the confusing woman moments. Even when they were friends. Even before he realized she was a girl. He had...He always had...

"_Ja_, my heart is all yours."

~!~

Arthur Kirkland stood at the doorway between America's kitchen and living room, staring at the scene before him. Alfred was busy making cookies of all things, but Matthew seemed not the least bit interested. Even if America kept insisting it was comfort food – or the next best thing to ice-cream for comfort food, since he didn't have any ice-cream, and oh, should he go get ice-cream at the store, or...? Arthur had been quick to say the most important thing Alfred could do would be to stay here and just be available...for whenever Matthew _did_ want to talk about it.

For now, though, Canada seemed to want to be alone, having claimed the American's couch, turned on the television, and curled up with his polar bear like the bear was some cuddly stuffed toy. Arthur sighed whenever he heard the whispered sound of Gilbert's nickname coming from the Canadian. It was beginning to just get sad, but Matthew wasn't crying. It was like he was forcing the tears back and trying to think of another way to cope, giving Gilbert the freedom to run off without a fight and yet curling up and wanting him back but not...

He sighed again, rubbing at his temple before turning away and walking into the kitchen, leaning up against the counter where Alfred was busy scraping delicious-looking left over holiday cookies from a cookie tray to a plate. "How do you suppose we fix this?"

Alfred glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before his cheeks puffed out and he grumbled, "Well _I_ had a solution, but _he_ didn't like it."

Making a face, Arthur glared at him. "America, this is serious. Look at him. He's nothing but a big mess. We need to speak with Prussia."

"I guess you're right," Alfred answered with a sigh of his own, almost glaring at the cookies as if he could blame food for the drama surfacing around his brother. "But where do you suppose he is?" Then he cursed, tossing the empty cookie tray into the sink – which wasn't exactly nearby, but America had decent aim and was accustomed to throwing things around his kitchen. "I just wish I knew what happened exactly."

Arthur hummed to himself, trying to think. "I suppose the best course of action would be to try speaking to someone who might know the most about him."

Before any more could be said, Canada walked into the room, staring at the floor and almost scraping his feet along the ground as he took one slow step, then another. "Um...do you mind...if I call France? I want to ask him something."

England could feel his eyebrows shoot up. Why France? What could the perverted frog possibly be able to help Canada with that neither America nor himself could...?

Alfred voiced his thoughts. "Huh? France?" But then he paused and shrugged. "I mean, yeah, sure, you can call whoever, but why...?"

Why would he be asking for a phone in the first place? Didn't he have his own? Arthur bit at the inside of his cheek. Or was it because his own phone had died? Naturally, Canada wouldn't have been planning to spend the night, so he probably left everything at his house. That must be it then...but still...why Francis?

Taking the cell phone from America, Matthew mumbled, "He knows the most about Prussia..."

_Ah._

As Canada left the room, heading to the guest room of all things just to talk on the phone, Arthur found Alfred staring at him and he rose a single eyebrow, getting the boy to speak. "Well...Can you think of anyone else?"

With a huff, Arthur turned away, finding himself grumbling, "Why did it have to be the frog?"

~!~

Francis Bonnefoy was singing to himself as he stepped out of the shower. The American hotel wasn't too bad, he supposed, but it was always lacking something. Oh, it had all the necessities, but the view wasn't exactly spectacular and the service wasn't exactly the best. (Neither were the women all that interesting to look at...though the bellman had been quite the cute looking boy). Sometimes he wondered if America purposefully set it up so France wouldn't want to flirt with too many of the hotel staff. Ever since that one incident...

Having his thoughts interrupted by a phone call was exciting at best, but when he walked out of the bathroom and flopped on the bed, he soon lost his excitement. Seeing as the number calling him was America. He sighed. Speak of the devil.

Deciding to at least be amiable as he answered the phone, France put on a smile to mask his sigh. "Ah, America, I do not get calls from you very often..."

But then a completely different voice replied. "This...isn't America...Papa, it's me, Canada."

He jumped up immediately, sitting on the edge of his bed, grabbing the towel he had let fall to the floor earlier. "Oh Canada~ I'm glad. You are a much better person to talk to than that brother of yours. So tell me, why the phone call?"

There was a hesitation, as if the poor boy had forgotten why he had called in the first place, though Francis was quite sure Matthew would never forget anything. "Well, it's Prussia..." France blinked at the information. He had heard that Gilbert and Matthew had gotten together recently; he had heard and been honestly delighted. So why was Canada calling to ask about Prussia now? "What sort of...history...does he have with Hungary?"

_Oh. That explains everything._

Francis sighed over the phone, feeling his heart ache for the poor Canadian who knew nothing of Gil's complicated past. "Oh Matthew, what happened?"

He could hear Canada's voice crack, but he sounded strong when he spoke, if a little whispered. Then again, Matthew always did have a light voice. "It was just terrible, Papa. I went to meet up with him after the meeting and he and...he and...he and Hungary were..."

"Shhh, you don't have to say anymore." _Gil, you stupid always-stuck-in-the-past lovesick fool. _"Oh, that woman is a terrible thing for him. She probably has him wrapped around her finger as we speak."

There was no noise from Matthew. Not for a while. As if he were considering the words. At least, Francis was pretty certain he didn't hear crying, and he had to wonder how Canada felt about second chances. Once again, France felt like cursing Prussia's idiocy and regrettable addiction to his past.

But then Canada spoke, voice hard, but curious and hushed all the same. "What do you mean?"

"Hm. They grew up together. Childhood friends and occasionally more, I believe." _Story time, huh? Guess I better let him know. It's only fair. It might persuade him to chase after Gilbert, after all. That idiot needs someone to pull him out of his ridiculous cycle. _"Hungary was a bit of a tomboy you see; actually I think she really believed she was one of the guys for the longest time. And, ah, Prussia, he hung out with her and did everything he could for her, especially when she – uh – grew into her womanhood." Francis sighed. "Of course that's when Austria happened."

"Austria?" Canada's question came almost instantly when France stopped to get a breath.

_Ah. Good. He's listening. He's interested. Maybe I can convince him..._

"Well, Gilbert asked Elizaveta to marry him...and...well, she ran off with Austria instead. The thing is, while she was with Austria, she gained this uncanny ability to put the two against each other." _Dieu, I can remember all the stupid lover spats we had to break up...or..._ "I can't _tell_ you how many times Antonio and I had to deal with Gil getting drunk and pissed off at the world. He'll tell you he never gets drunk, but whenever Elizaveta broke up with him _again_, he would come back to us and..." he sighed. "And we would _tell_ him not to fall for her tricks, but she's always able to pull him back."

He heard a scoff. "Oh right. I forgot he asked her to marry him. Guess I was just a stand in -"

"No, Matthew, it's not that simple," Francis snapped, surprised to find himself defending Prussia. Well, he was surprised to find himself actually being a decent friend...and defending Gil's stupid actions against his own ex-colony. "Gil really is quite complicated when it comes to love. And Elizaveta just plays with him, because she knows him well enough to press all the right buttons. Come to think of it, anytime he gets away from her, she puts on this act and easily gets him to crawl right back...only to break him apart again."

There was a gasp. _Finally. Finally, it's breaking through_. "Wait, what?"

Francis had to fight the urge to smile. He didn't want to sound happy when he continued his story. He wanted to sound sad. He wanted to make Canada understand the _levels_ behind this relationship. Humans had so many opportunities for love. Nations, on the other hand...If Matthew really had been happy – and he could see it; he could really see them working well and he was a little ashamed for not thinking to hook them up earlier – but he wanted both Matthew _and_ Gil to be happy, _together_. He wanted this to work.

So, he decided to make Hungary out to be a horrible controlling manipulative bitch. Even if it was kind of true, he might have been laying it on a little thick. "Well, she doesn't love him at all. We all figured that out a long time ago. Except he hasn't. And we just can't seem to get him to stay away from her." Another sigh. Sighs were good for sad stories. "I'm sure he really loves you, Matthew; he's just caught in her web again." He was shaking his head. "It really is quite, _quite_ complicated."

When Canada next spoke, the hardness had gone soft; his voice was back to being whispered, back to sounding like it was on the edge of tears. "You...you really think he loves me?"

Francis couldn't help his smile once again. "I am sure of it, Matthew. I know relationships. And I know Gilbert." He paused. "But I do have to warn you – he _does_ still have feelings for Elizaveta, though that much should be obvious."

A pause on the other end and then. "What do I do, Papa? I want him back but -"

Almost there. _Almost_ there. "I suggest you chase them down. Chase them down and talk to Gilbert about it yourself. Maybe you'll get a chance to see what Hungary does to him first hand. Then you'll be able to make whatever choice you want. But if you decide you want him back, you'll have to convince Gilbert that Elizaveta doesn't love him – but if anyone can do it, if he really does love you..."

"Thank you, Papa. I know what to do now." Canada seemed determined. His voice was hard again, but not as upset. More...strengthened. _He's gotten stronger. Dieu, Gil, you made him strong and then you left him? I am so going to kick your ass next time I see you. _

"Call me if you need help."

"Thanks, Papa, I just might."

_Click_.

The phone dial tone buzzed in his ear, but Francis let it go for a few seconds more. _Gil, I might just kick your ass next time I see you anyway...Or get you drunk...Maybe I should call Antonio...I'm sure he'll want in on this..._

~!~

America stood outside the door to the guest room, currently too busy poking England to worry about eating any of the awesome cookies he had just cooked. (Okay, so he had nabbed a few, and he was chomping them down, but, really, he was totally focused on his lover at the moment!) Or, really, he was focused on what Arthur was currently doing. Seeing as spying on his brother's phone call was totally curious-worthy.

"Hey, hey, what's he saying?"

Arthur, who was currently standing at the door, palms pressed against it, ear pressed close to the crack. Spying. Of course he was being quiet and trying to shush America. "He's telling frog-face what happened."

Alfred did have to admit. England's version of spying was probably much more effective than his, but he didn't like all this sneaky-business. If they wanted to know what Canada was talking about, they should just bust the door down and demand to know. Spying just...felt...wrong...Even if James Bond was a totally cool person.

"So what happened?"

This last question he said while bending down close to Arthur's ear, whispering, _trying_ to be quiet. Of course, it caught England by surprise and caused him to jump and cover his mouth to hide the yelp. "Shush, you git! I can't hear a thing if you keep whispering in my ear like that!"

"Sorry," America mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets and pulling back a little.

After a few minutes of waiting – what felt like _forever_ – Arthur's eyes widened and he muttered under his breath, "That little _bitch_, she's done it again."

Bouncing on his feet, Alfred found himself antsy for an answer. "What? What happened, Iggy? Who's the bitch? C'mon, tell me..."

Finally, England pulled away from the door, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the other room. "Hungary. She's always been after Prussia, always playing him. I should have known."

Of course, this made no sense whatsoever to America. "Uh. I thought she was with Austria."

And England face-palming didn't really make him feel better. "Just trust me. Prussia is not entirely to blame here. And your brother has caught himself in something big."

_You say that. You're always sticking up for Prussia when no one else is. Sure, I like to tease you about your promiscuous past, but really? Could you stop protecting the asshole who cheated on my brother?_

Still, he didn't feel like bringing any of his real worries up to Arthur. Not now. Not with Canada trying to deal with things. Later, though. Later, if he could remember. "So, what do we do?"

"We get to the root of the problem," Arthur said, green eyes narrowing. "We find out why Hungary is so obsessed with Prussia in the first place."

America stuck his tongue out. "Bleh. How could anyone be obsessed with _Prussia_?"

"Alfred, seriously. Do you want your brother to remain depressed for the rest of his life?"

_He's not depressed. He's just sort of...Oh...Is that what depression looks like?_

Shaking his head, America responded. "No, of course not."

"Then we need to get Hungary alone," Arthur was saying, sitting down on the living room couch, hardly even paying attention to America right now. Which kind of bugged him, to be honest. He wanted attention. He always wanted attention.

Besides..._wait, get her alone? What for? It's not like... _His eyes widened at the thought. "I can't hit a girl, Iggy!" He exclaimed, leaning over the edge of the couch, just in time to catch green eyes rolling at his outburst.

"You git! We're just going to get her to leave Prussia so your brother will be happy!"

"Oh, okay then." Laughing, Alfred stood back up, fist-pumping the air. "Let's go, Mattie! Your hero brother is on the job!"

But before he could run off to tell his brother the exciting news, Arthur's comment brought him completely back down to earth. "Do you even know where they are?"

"Ah. No..." He huffed, flopping down on the couch next to his boyfriend, crossing his arms in a pout. "Damn it, why does everything always have to be so complicated?"

He heard England sigh. "We'll figure it out." And then the British nation was leaning against him, a little gesture he didn't do all that often, most especially not in front of the rest of the world. It was enough to make Alfred shut his mouth and listen. "America, I'm glad you don't cause this much confusion."

...but the comment just made him laugh. "Dude, Iggy, you're the one who gets confusing at times," he said, sneaking an arm around Arthur as he chuckled about the irony.

He got to meet a green eyed glare when he looked at his boyfriend, too. "And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

_Hehe, he said 'pray tell.' Should I make fun of him for that? No one says that anymore. Do they? Ah, whatever, I'll let it go. This time. _"Well, you don't always say what you mean or mean what you say."

At England's snort, he knew the nation was going to disagree with him. "When do I ever do something as silly as that?"

Pulling back to get Arthur's attention, Alfred made sure to raise his eyebrow as dramatically as possible, getting a somewhat exasperated look from the Englishman. "I think the real question is...when do you not?"

Before Arthur could respond to him, the door to the guest room opened and then slammed closed. As America spun around, he was shocked to see Canada standing there, handing the phone back to him like there was no problem whatsoever. Except. Those eyes looked different. Blue-violet eyes clear and glaring off into the distance. And the shoulders were squared; he was standing up tall. Looking...determined? About what?

"Thank you both for everything. I'm going to go find Gilbert now," Matthew said, a different look crossing those eyes. A jealousy? Honestly, Alfred had no idea; he wasn't very good at reading people, and he had never seen his brother look so...serious...before...well, not recently, that much was for sure.

So, he blinked. "Wait, you're going to do what now?"

Not even sparing a glance for him, Canada changed direction and began to make his way to the front door. "I'm going to find Prussia. I will not let Hungary hurt him."

Still confused, and a little freaked out, too, America jumped off the couch and grabbed his brother's arm. "Hey, wait, you're seriously going to go out and take care of this yourself? No offense, bro, but I've never seen you assertive in social situations and those two are like super assertive people."

Canada's glare was almost like a slap in the face and it made Alfred step back. "I _will_ get Gilbert away from her; and I'll make her pay for toying with him – with us – with _me_." There was a pause, then those eyes glanced away, a hand coming up to his head, brow furrowed. "I – I'm not sure what I'm going to do with Prussia, yet, but..." He shook his head. "I need to find them. I need to see them. I need to see _him_."

And then Arthur was beside Alfred, speaking where Al was speechless. "And you'll talk to him?"

"Y-yeah. _Dieu_, I should hate him for cheating on me, but...I -" There it was. The Canada he knew. "I don't know. I just want to see what Papa was talking about...if it really is...if it's really not Gil...I just need to know for sure." Tears were in his eyes. Tears he had been holding back for so long. Tears America had been waiting for, reaching out to hold his brother in a hug, comforting because the one who had comforted him before had left him. "I shouldn't give him another chance but – but – _I love him, Al! _I love him – _and I want him back!_"

~!~

_A/N: Common role-play out-of-character note: "Ahhh, so hard to write stuff I don't wanna do~" I repeat this here. Because. It hurts. As much as I love PruHun, this is so hard to write. Because he's so much better off with Canada and gahhhhh ~ Also, also, also, I don't like this snapped!character-idea-but-i-think-a-little-something-is-sneaking-out and I totally, completely, made up the last three paragraphs there. Hope my sister don't kill me for adding that in there._

_-trying to show the mixed feelings you get when you first catch someone cheating on you...except...never had someone cheat on me, so I'm drawing a little more from the breakup feel than the actual cheating feel...anyway, this is why Canada is upset/angry/sad/can't-decide-what-to-feel-mood-swingy_

_-Prussia is experiencing an issue that is actually common, I think, and unless you're one of those "love at first sight" believers, then you can probably agree with me when I say it IS possible to give a part of your heart to someone and even if you move on, if they suddenly show interest and want you back it's super hard not to jump back to them (actually, I did this myself, long story, so I can /easily/ write Prussia point of view here); your first real love is kind of special that way, I think; anywho – that's just my experience and I rarely – if ever – encounter it in fiction so HEY I thought I'd share that side for once!_

_-lol at America making cookies because he's out of ice-cream; totally added that one in myself_

_-France! Hey! He's /not/ captured like you might have thought because of what Prussia was forced to give out in the last book. /That's/ why Kairi had it under her plot holes xD Also! I believe Francis uses a different spelling of Matthew's name, but I'm not going to worry about it. I haven't been doing much in the way of accents, either, except a small thing here and there – probably most from America since that's the one I know the best._

_-America's point of view. Just. I love it sometimes. Also, I think Britain is definitely better at the spy thing than America. We just like cool explosions and badass hot guys or chicks in leather kicking ass. Not much for actual good spying...even if we still seem to be obsessed with the idea. _

_-Next chapter is a PruHun – eh, technically speaking HunPru – BDSM enactment, though only about half the chapter is actual smut, I'm going to throw it up and then toss up the chapter after that as quick as possible cause this is supposed to be a PruCan fic and how dare I put in PruHun smut, right? (And don't worry, well, dang, if I try to reassure you about PruCan stuff I'll just be giving you spoilers)_

_Kairi: See! I've gotten better with the whole crying thing! I'm sorry I made so many of you beautiful peeps upset about it! ;^; I'm only a 17 year old girl who lives in America! Also, I've never met a Canadian, well, except for that one crazy happenstance..._

_~~Thank you for all reviews/alerts/favorites~~I really, really appreciate them all and I'm sorry but I'm definitely taking you through a roller-coaster with this first part~~_

_~Reda_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Notes****: **

-Ah hah. PruHun. What is the purpose of this? I don't remember anymore. There is a purpose. Oh, yeah, that. Technically, there's not any sex in this scene; I kind of chickened out when I hit 4500 words and hadn't even started...well...anyway, this scene is all from Hungary's point of view. Yes, almost 5000 words of Hungary. Hence why I'm updating two chapters at once. Ah hah. Yeah. This was supposed to go into more detailed BDSM stuff, but I wimped out, so eh ~

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 4

~!~

She could tell that he was still second-guessing his decision. She could tell that he wasn't happy. She could tell that his mind was still wandering to someone other than her. Her blood boiled with her jealousy. She would have to show him _why_ he loved her so much. Bringing up old memories had usually been enough, but this new fling of his was harder to cut off than ever before.

No matter. She was always prepared. And he was so much fun to play with.

So, she had decided to stay the night in America after the World Conference. First off, it would be too troublesome to book a flight at night. And secondly, she wanted enough time alone with him to establish how this relationship of theirs was going to work. She didn't want him changing his mind at the last second and gallivanting off with that Canadian – _why a Canadian_ _of all people_?

He was supposed to love _her_ and _only_ her. Whether or not she loved him back was not the point. For centuries, he had been hers to play with. No one else should have his love. She hated Russia for what he had tried to do to her poor Gilbert, but she didn't hate him all that much, seeing as Gil never stopped hating the Russian. She was pretty certain that Gilbert wouldn't ever love the Russian, so he was not a threat. It was this new _nobody nation_ that was the threat. How _dare_ someone take Gilbert's love away from her.

Not that she actually returned the love. No, it was more of a possessive need to control him than any actual reciprocated feelings. She didn't love him, but she wasn't about to let him love anyone else.

No, this needed to be addressed. And she knew the perfect way to do it.

As soon as he closed the door behind them, she swerved around. Her hand snatched out for his tie – she did love how he had been dressed in an actual suit and not just one of his old uniforms. With force, she pulled him down and smacked their lips together. She could feel his breath catch at the contact, mouth open and willing. She tried not to smirk. Kissing was one of his emotional weak points, not that he would have shared that information with anyone or ever admitted it.

In slight movements, she moved forward, finally pushing him back against the door. He grunted when his back hit resistance, acknowledging that he'd been surprised by the trap, which made her renew energy in their kiss, keeping his attention. Prussia's arms started to move, attempting to hold onto her; without breaking the kiss, she let go of her grip on the tie and pushed his arms back. Lightly. Not holding on. Just a small gesture for now. Of course, Gilbert wasn't one to take a hint; he started reaching out again, and she slammed him down again. One more time and she would act. She was waiting for it, expecting it.

And when he reached out once more, she couldn't help but lift her lips up in a smirk, giving both of them a small chance to breathe before renewing the kiss. Hungary loved her easy control over him; to be honest, she needed this; she needed this reminder that she could still make _someone_ do what she wanted. Reaching into a pocket on her dress – she loved how easy it was to wear an apron with this dress, giving her pockets – she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Grabbing his arms yet again, she pushed him back. Only this time, she handcuffed his wrists together behind him.

She was a little surprised when he tensed, breaking the kiss and even trying to step back, finding the door behind him and opening his red eyes to look down at her, breath heavy and panting. "Lizzy?"

For a moment, Hungary just looked up at him. She hadn't expected him to freak out over bonds. That would make this even more interesting than she imagined. This was going to be way too much fun.

After a while, she smiled as lightly and cutely as she could manage, putting a hand behind his head so she could pull him down and kiss his cheek before whispering in his ear. "Do you remember your safe word?"

He gulped. With her hand on the back of his neck, she could feel his skin heat up significantly. He nodded, slowly, and when she pulled back to start unbuttoning his shirt, he spoke. "Liz, I-I don't think-"

She frowned when she looked up at him. Was he _really_ going to think of Canada _now_? "What's wrong, Gil?"

He looked completely flustered and nothing like himself, glancing to the side to keep from meeting her eyes. That Canadian must have been making him soft behind her back. "Before we do anything, you have to promise me something."

"What is it, Gil?" A part of her was glad he was looking away. He wouldn't see her roll her eyes.

Him and his promises. She could promise him anything, but that didn't mean she was going to keep it. Still, he seemed to believe in them, probably because he made it such a point to always stick by his word. It must have rubbed off from his old knightly days. Something he held onto as a reminder of his time of glory. He really was quite pathetic sometimes.

"That you mean it this time."

Oh _that_ was too easy to twist. With a smile, she cupped his face and forced him to look at her, lifting up to peck him gently on the lips. "Oh, Gilly, of course I mean it."

He seemed to relax visibly, falling into her touch. Meanwhile, she felt her disappointment rise. An easy takeover was not something she had expected from Prussia. That Canadian really _had_ made him soft. She fought back a scowl and kept a smile on her face for now, continuing to unbutton his shirt, pulling the suit jacket and shirt apart to reveal the bare skin underneath. She furrowed her brow when she realized she was going to have to release him from the handcuffs if she wanted his shirt off.

And why did he have to be so quiet? Why did he have to keep his mouth shut and watch her? The gaze from his red eyes was starting to annoy her; there was too much of the feeling that he thought he still had control. _That's_ what annoyed her. _She_ was the one in charge here.

With a bit of a pouting frown, Hungary's eyes gazed across the tie still hanging around his neck. Perking up, she untied it and pulled it off, holding it in her hand when she smirked up at him.

He caught on immediately – and didn't seem to like the idea. "Hey, Lizzy, don't-"

"Don't what?" She asked innocently, reaching up to wrap the tie around his head, covering his eyes, using it as the blindfold she so desired.

To her surprise – and honest delight – he tensed again before shaking his head. "No, Liz, you don't understand."

Putting one hand on his bare chest and a finger across his lips, she made him still. "I'm in charge, Gilbert."

This was different, but she loved it. He hadn't complained or squirmed so early on before, especially not about such little things. Yet his skin was growing warm beneath her hand, telling her the truth of his desires, especially when she toyed with a nipple and he twitched.

"Yeah, but-"

That's when she smacked him. She kept it open-handed. Just a slap. But the sound echoed around the hotel room and a glaring red hand print appeared on his cheek. His breathing hitched and if she knew him well enough, his eyes were wide behind that blindfold.

"I'm in charge. I make the rules, Gilbert, not you." She waited for him to say something back, but he was quiet, either from shock or a fear of making her mad, she wasn't sure. "Do you understand?"

Slowly, he nodded, but he didn't say anything.

She decided that wasn't good enough. "Answer me!" She barked, watching him flinch back. Taking a single finger, she ran it up his chest and his neck, stopping it just below his jaw line with the pinprick of her nail poking at his warm skin. "I said, do you understand?"

Unable to nod this time, he spoke. "Yes, I understand, Lizzy-"

"Elizaveta. Say my full name."

She could feel him twitch at the command, but he complied easily enough. "Elizaveta." His voice was surprisingly steady, even if it was a little breathy.

"Good boy," she murmured before planting a kiss on his neck.

She expected the grimace but the sound that escaped his lips, that whine – that was unexpected. Yes, she was quite sure now; he had gone soft without her to keep him in shape. But she couldn't be mad; it only made things more interesting.

Now, to get the shirt and jacket off. Reaching behind him, she unhooked the cuffs, feeling him tilt his head in confusion. Almost as soon as he was free, his arms began to move to wrap around her. Putting aside the immediate need to get his clothes off, she slapped him down and grabbed a fistful of his white hair.

"Don't you dare," she growled.

He winced, "Aw, c'mon, Lizzy."

Finding those little sensitive hairs at the back of his neck, she tugged, causing him to clench his teeth and hiss. Yes, she knew every weak point, every erogenous zone, every little thing about him. She just had to remind him.

Seeing as his hands had clenched around her dress, she had to hiss out a command again. "Drop. Your. Hands." With each word she pulled a bit more, using her other hand to twist one of his nipples for extra emphasis.

He hissed through his teeth again but dropped his grip rather quickly, letting his arms hang limply by his sides. Glancing down she could see the bulge in his pants, making her nod in satisfaction. At the very least these little lessons weren't a waste of time.

"That's better," she murmured, dropping her grip and running fingers lightly through his hair, a small gesture with mixed purposes. Petting his head to reward him – and a little bit of a loving gesture to keep him from freaking out; after his years with Russia, she didn't want to go far enough to pull up those memories – well, not too many of them at least.

As he relaxed into the touch, she worked at removing his suit jacket and button down shirt. Finally free of those annoyances, she pulled the handcuffs out again and returned his hands to their position behind his back. Only then did she allow herself to lean into his chest, listening to his quick heartbeat. She smirked at his grunt, knowing that he wanted more than anything to put his arms around her. This control was addicting.

With a sigh, she pulled away from him, running a finger up his chest, landing on his oh-so-important iron cross necklace. She could hear his breath hitch again, recognizing where she had stopped; he even bit his lip to stop his complaint. With a nod, she decided to reward good behavior this time, allowing him to keep the necklace.

Without a word, she stepped away, leaving him against the door, topless, blindfolded, and handcuffed. Admiring her work, she crossed her arms and smirked, waiting. She did have another outfit to change into, but she would wait to move until he started to squirm.

She didn't have to wait long. He took a single step forward, frowning, confusion coming through his voice. "Lizzy?" She bit her lip and held her breath. "Liz, don't leave me like this." When she still didn't responded, he almost whimpered. "Please?"

Letting her breath out, she stepped back more and grinned, calling to him from the bed against the other wall. "Kneel for me, Gilbert. Kneel in that traditional knight way you like so much."

His body relaxed and he did as she commanded amazingly quickly. Down on one knee, genuflecting before her, head down. The only difference was the placement of his hands, but that wasn't his fault. His arms appeared to twitch, clinking the cuffs against each other. The iron cross hung in the open air, representing the pull of gravity.

She felt giddy seeing him like that. If she ever did love him, it would be this part of him. A part he showed to no one else. She grit her teeth. A part he _would_ show to no one else. Surely, he hadn't done this for Canada yet? Surely, that nobody nation hadn't grabbed enough of Prussia's heart to make him do such things. No, this was all for her. This was always only for her; he had told her that once.

Nodding her head, she moved. Slipping out of her maid dress outfit, she pulled out her favorite dominatrix wear from the drawers. A black corset, long black gloves, a lacy mostly see-through skirt, and thigh-high boots with stiletto heels. Typical and simple, but just what she needed without having to spend too much time getting ready. Her Gilbert was already getting restless, though he could more than likely hear her changing.

Reaching into the drawer, she pulled out all the toys she would need for tonight, setting them on the bed for later use. She did keep the riding crop and a more appropriate blindfold, though. She hovered over the leash and collar, hesitating on whether or not to use it now or wait. He would hate it; he always hated it. But she was trying to make a point; she needed him to accept his position – that he belonged to _her_.

Later, then.

Turning around, she made her way back to her Gilbert, letting her heels make sound with every step, going slow just to make him twitch. When she finally arrived in front of him, she placed a hand in his messy white hair, running her fingers through the spikes. She smiled when she saw him visibly tremble. The wait was starting to get to him.

Playing a balancing act, she put a booted toe under his chin, forcing him to slowly lift his head. With her hand, she ripped the tie off of his head, removing the temporary blindfold. She watched as his albino red eyes slammed shut at the new light, blinking several times to refocus before he finally took in her new outfit.

And then he smirked, even as his eyes betrayed his lust. "Gott, Lizzy, I didn't know you liked so much black."

Now fully in her role, she let her eyes flash. The riding crop came down quickly, smacking against the side of his mouth, causing him to yelp. She hadn't ever hit his face before, but that comment made him deserve it.

"Shit, Lizzy! That was my mouth!" A tongue flicked out to lick at the forming welt while his hands shook behind him.

She dropped her boot and swung the crop again, catching him underneath his right eye this time. Earning another cry, she forced her anger to cool; she didn't want to actually damage him; who knew how much he could take now, not being a country anymore. With her boot back on the floor, his head began to hang, eyes squinted because of the new pain. She didn't allow it, pulling his head back up by a tough grip on his hair, earning a wince.

Yes, she was in her role now. He, on the other hand, was not. It was her job to remedy this. Apparently leaving him alone for so long had brought out the stubborn side of Prussia that she was used to: the loud-mouthed idiot. Maybe she needed the collar and leash after all.

Clicking her tongue between her teeth, she spoke down to him. "You're breaking the rules again."

"Am I?"

The crop came down again, hitting his shoulder and collarbone, which caused him not only to cry out but to cut the cry off with a pinched moan. She felt her own body heat at the sound. Ah yes, she had forgotten about that weak point. Tugging on his hair for emphasis, she spelled it out for him. "First off, my name is not Lizzy. Secondly, you should know better than to speak to me like that. And third," here she smacked him again, on the other side, earning another moan covered cry. "Don't complain."

Eyes squinting, breath panting, he responded. "Right. Sorry." Now that he could see, she raised an eyebrow and raised the crop, earning a hurried, "Elizaveta, I understand. It won't happen again."

She held the moment for a second more before smiling and dropping her hold, petting his hair softly when his head fell and he stared at the floor. This really was the best way to set him up to follow her like a dog even outside the bedroom. Enough nights of this and he'd be all hers for however long she wanted him, pulling him back anytime he tried to stray.

Setting the crop on the floor, she crouched down in front of him, holding the better blindfold in her hands. "Look at me," she commanded, pleased to see him comply quickly. His eyes widened and his mouth opened as the complaint almost broke through, but a glance to her new weapon and the blood slowly dripping down his cheek from the cuts on his face seemed to be enough to accept her wishes. "Good boy," she murmured again, quite pleased with him as she set the dark blindfold around his head, completely covering his red eyes and hopefully making it impossible to see through any cracks.

When he took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself, she frowned and reached out to grip his chin in her hand. He flinched at her touch but was quickly rewarded when she pressed their lips together, instantly infiltrating his mouth with her tongue, claiming as much as she could, pushing his tongue out of the way, surprised and pleased to have him give up the dominant kiss battle so quickly. Nibbling on his lip earned a moan. Licking at the cut next to his mouth earned another one. Feeling his breath, panting as he was, made her own body tingle.

This was barely the beginning.

She was hot already, finding that she would be wanting relief soon herself. But she didn't want to be the one exhausted. As much as this whole situation turned her on, she refused to quit until Gilbert passed out from the pleasure. Her plan wouldn't work if she was too exhausted to carry it out. She wanted to be able to keep him in this role so that when he woke up his brain wouldn't know whether to follow her orders or his own wants. It was so much easier to control him when he was caught in the submissive role.

"Stand up," she commanded as she got to her feet herself with Gilbert slowly following, probably grimacing because of being on his knees for so long. Well, he'd have to get over that because she wasn't quite done with that position yet.

Moving to his side, she slipped an arm through his. With his hands behind him, he couldn't respond in any way, but she saw the blush form on his face and she smirked. Yes, he had not been expecting such close and gentle contact. It was probably messing with his brain. She could hope.

With one arm in his, she led him across the floor to the bed. She had another toy to grab, and she didn't want to keep moving from the door to the bed. Even though she wasn't about to put him on the bed or let him relax, having him closer made things easier on her. A thought did occur to her as she walked though.

Putting on a cute, innocent voice, she giggled lightly and said, "Hey, Gil, with my arm in yours like this it's almost like we're going to be married."

That was sure to mentally bug him, seeing as he had asked her to marry him years before Austria did. She had denied him, of course. But she had found it so incredibly cute to see him so flustered and then so disappointed. Looking up at his face now, she couldn't help but smirk again. His face was redder. His teeth were clenched, like he wanted to say something but was following the rules of their game and keeping silent. Heck, he even stumbled a bit in their walk. She _had_ to grin triumphantly, loving the fact that she had remembered such a great piece of information.

She milked the moment a bit more, making him stop at the edge of the bed – not that he would know where he was. Rubbing her cheek against his bare arm, she kept up the cute and innocent act, knowing how much it would fuck with his brain. Especially if she were to switch back to dominating suddenly and without warning. The main point of this exercise was to control and confuse him, after all. If he really did love this Canadian, she had to force him to think it was pointless; she had to force him to rely on her – and her alone.

"Stand still," she muttered, keeping her voice quiet and nice instead of demanding and harsh.

He complied easily enough, even after she moved away to stand in front of him. Humming to herself, she reached out for his pants unhooking and unzipping them. Pulling the navy pants down to his ankles, she smirked and placed a hand on top of the obvious erection still hiding in his Prussian eagle boxers.

He groaned from deep in his throat. "Liz..."

There. Reaching around behind to grab the cat o' nine tails whip from the bed, she snapped and slashed out, smacking the whip into his chest. "That's not what you call me!" She shouted.

At first she grinned, but then he took a step back and lost his balance because of the pants around his ankles – and then she frowned as he fell. Prussia cut the cry off and hissed when his head and back slammed into the floor behind him. Immediately, she was on her knees beside him, lifting his head up from the ground to make sure it wasn't bleeding or hurt in any way. This was not something she had intended. She didn't want to damage him; normally, she wouldn't have been worried, but he wasn't a nation anymore – this might actually hurt him enough to cause problems.

"Are you okay?"

Gilbert nodded, his face contorted in pain but otherwise fine. She breathed a short sigh of relief and ripped his pants the rest of the way off. If he had another set of clothes to wear, she probably would have cut his clothes off more erotically, but this was the best she could manage with such short notice. It should be obvious that she was out of practice, too. Forgetting such simple safety rules.

After the pants, she went ahead and let the boxers come free, too. She tossed the whip to the side, deciding not to use it after all. If it was going to cause that much of a reaction... Still, she sighed. Someone _had_ been making him soft behind her back. Were they even having sex? Or, heaven forbid, was the Canadian letting Gilbert take charge in the bedroom? She scoffed at the very idea. Prussia? Actually successfully stay in charge with someone? _Please_, _he's too sensitive for that. Then again, if Canada was a virgin before Prussia...then maybe..._

Feeling her eyes flash, she shifted her position along the floor until she was kneeling at his side. Leaning her head down close to his ear, she whispered, "You've been having fun without me, haven't you?"

Before he could actually answer, she reached out and grabbed his precious manhood. She wouldn't soil her mouth with such a thing, but she had discovered that her fingers could be just as talented. Besides, Gilbert was the one who had the talent with his tongue; _he_ was the one who gave great oral, though he did have to be pressured or...dominated...in order for him to even think of doing such a thing. Even with her.

Stroking him slowly, she managed to pull a moan from his lips. "Ah-" Of course he was rather quick at swallowing it down. Even in a situation like this, Gil refused to _let_ the noises free.

No, she always did have to work for them.

Keeping a grip on him, moving her hand, pumping, letting her fingers dance, she took her other hand and reached down to a man's only entrance. She didn't press in or anything, no, just letting her fingers massage the sensitive skin while her other hand worked at giving the best hand job in the world. Though, technically, it was pretty weak compared to what she had done for Austria – because there had actually been real feelings for the Austrian at one point – but, still, she was quite sure it would be enough, especially with Gilbert being more sensitive than normal.

He moaned and hissed underneath her touch. Even squirmed a bit. She allowed herself a smirk when he started to arch off the ground, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to keep the inevitable cry down. That was when she squeezed around his member at just the right position with just the right pressure...keeping him from coming.

"Don't even think about it," she muttered, letting her voice drip with a warning.

He whimpered and started moving. "Ah – c'mon – Liz -"

She growled and squeezed tighter, earning a higher pitched yelp. "I said no, Gil," she said before smirking. "Or would you like me to put a ring on it?"

He froze immediately, panting as he fought to keep himself still. She had to fight the urge to laugh at her control. Oh, and it was only the beginning. They had all night. One thing was for certain...

...he would definitely be her little dog come morning.

~!~

_A/N: I swear to god if anyone gets mad at me for wimping out...I couldn't stand to write anymore of Hungary. I just couldn't. It's so...argh...ANYWAY – NEXT CHAPTER – That's where...Prussia point of view, Hungary point of view. Then the chapter after that, some Canada, England, and America...and some Germany and Italy with PruHun...chapter AFTER that adding Spain and France omg and...well...shit starts to go down? So for all you peoples worried about this lasting for too long...eh...remember, I have two more books planned for this PruCan story. _

_-jfldjfkdlajfa; Hungary... I can't write her...when she's twisted like this...it's like...ughhhh..._

_~~Thank you for all reviews/alerts/favorites; I appreciate and love you all~~_

_~Reda_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Notes****:**

-I swear, this part, fun to read, a pain in the ass to write. You have no idea. Having to go back and write this part is like bleh now but it's actually settings things up for later. God, the third book is a huge mess.

-Btw: to anyone who happens to read the Wheel of Time series...I just finished the last book...let me say...damn...

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 5

~!~

When they arrived in Berlin, landing the plane in a separate area of the airport, a special part, a place for nations, Prussia found himself following Elizaveta without really thinking about where he was going or what he was doing. It came naturally. Like he had to keep his mouth shut and follow her. As if that was what he had always done, even if a little part of him was shouting at himself for his actions.

...Or maybe that was Gilbird. The little yellow chick had grown quiet and distant, still sitting in his hair, but clearly upset about something. Not that he could get the bird to talk. Gilbird didn't seem to want to make any kind of noise as long as Hungary was around, and Elizaveta hadn't left him alone since...since...

With a groan, he put a hand to his head, keeping his eyes down as he walked a few steps behind her. Always a few steps. His stomach was in knots and his heart was pounding in his chest, but his brain felt like it had been scrambled. His head hurt and there wasn't much thinking going on besides how much he just wanted to sleep. Change clothes, maybe, and sleep. Lizzy had promised him both as soon as they got home, so he followed her.

He felt like he was forgetting something, though. Something important. His stride grew shorter until he stopped completely, a thought hitting his brain. His things. His own clothes. Hats and sunglasses and all the important things. No wonder his eyes were tearing up – it was bright outside and he had nothing to ease the pain from the sunlight reflecting against the pavement where they walked. Personal planes were a bitch because they were always separated from the rest of the airport, let off into a separate area, where the sun was _so bright_.

"Come along, Gil," Liz said, having noticed that he had stopped.

Bringing a hand up to rub his eyes, Prussia tried to force the headache to the back of his mind, tried to think of where everything would be at. His brother's? No. He had been somewhere else. He had come to the meeting with...oh...

Lifting his head, he caught her eyes and tried to seem angry; she had dragged him out here, pulled him away from everything, messed everything up again; oh _gott_ he had...he had to get back! "You know my shit is still at Canada's place."

She seemed to seriously consider something before giving a half-hearted shrug. "We'll just buy you some new things."

Even as she turned around and started to walk again, Prussia fought the pull to follow her. _Gott_, he _wanted_ to follow her. Why? "I-It's not just clothes, though...My flute..." He cut off because she wasn't stopping.

She wasn't stopping and his feet were following after her again. Now, why were they doing that? "Oh that old thing?" Lizzy was saying, glancing over her shoulder, seeming downright pleased to have him still following. _Gott_, this didn't feel right. "I'm sure I can have Austria give you a newer, much nicer one."

His feet froze at that one, finally. "What did you just say?" His eyes even decided to narrow and glare at her, or was that because it was so damned bright out here? "There is no such thing as a 'nicer' one."

Hungary stopped, too, turning to face him and raising an eyebrow. "You must be crazy. That thing must be over a few centuries old."

He nearly hissed, but it came out as a whine instead. A whine. Like he was some child having a temper tantrum. "That flute belonged to Old Fritz, Lizzy. Don't insult it again."

Inwardly, he cringed at how meek his words sounded. At least he didn't add, _please, oh won't you please let me have it? _What the hell was wrong with him?

Her eyes rolled as she turned back around and started walking toward the airport entrance. "Whatever. It doesn't matter because you aren't going back for it."

He tried to stay still. He tried to stand his ground. He was _Prussia_. He should be able to stand up to her, shouldn't he? He should be able to fight against this unnatural tug, this desire to be with her. Why was it even so strong? It didn't add up! Ugh, why did it make his brain hurt so much trying to fight against her?

Shaking his head, feeling his shoulders slump, he found himself once again staring at his feet as he followed in her footsteps, cursing, ignoring the little chirp from his head. The little voice telling him just to leave. As if it were that simple. As if all he had to do was stop moving. Didn't Gilbird understand that he _couldn't_? It was...it was Elizaveta! She was here again; she was with _him_ again. He was a nation and he had her and oh, everything was just the way it had always been in his dreams...didn't anyone understand how hard it was to stop following her?

"Lizzy...Please..." The words came out of his mouth and he visibly winced when he heard them.

"Yes?" She said, sounding closer, close enough for his feet to stop.

Staring at the ground, he continued to mumble, "It really means a lot to me."

A hand touched his cheek, gently. He closed his eyes at the feel of the touch, reminded of how quickly it could turn from gentle to harsh if he stepped out of line. But it was so soothing right now. "Aw, poor baby. All right. Let's get settled in Germany and then I'll come back for it, all right?"

The thought crossed his mind – why are we in Germany – but it flitted away on the wind. He shouldn't ask questions. Too many questions would earn a punishment. He needed to be grateful. She had promised to gather his things – his flute – later. Patience was all he needed now. "Thanks, Lizzy."

She smiled at him, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Stay here. I need to use the restroom, all right?"

Nodding numbly at her sweet voice, Gilbert simply watched her walk away. Left out in the sun, still wondering what he was doing, why he was here. What had possessed him to leave? Why did he feel trapped? He put his hands in his pockets and sulked, wincing a little when a breeze pushed against his wrinkled shirt, slicing into the cuts now present on his chest. Come to think of it, his whole body was sore.

"Prussia, not again." At the voice he lifted his head, catching eyes with a familiar frowning aristocrat of a nation.

He scowled in response. "The fuck are you looking at, pansy ass?"

Austria stared back at him before sighing and shaking his head. "I thought after all you went through, you would have settled down with Canada. Please tell me you're not actually with Hungary again?"

At the very mention of Canada, Gilbert winced, feeling like someone had just stabbed his heart. His head hurt. His eyes hurt from being out in the bright sunlight for too long. He was sweating and even that was beginning to sting because of the rough sex of last night. Still, he grit his teeth and went on.

"Yeah. What's it to you?"

He glared as Austria put a hand to his head and sighed again. "Prussia, go back to him while you still can."

That was when Prussia blinked. "What do you mean 'while I still can?' It's not like Lizzy's gonna keep me prisoner!" He laughed loudly at the very absurdity.

But the look from Austria didn't make him feel like it was as funny as he thought it was. Idiot. Roderich just didn't know anything. Always stuck up and so sure of himself. "No, there's no guarantee he'll take you back once she's done toying with you."

"Keh," Prussia scoffed, feeling his eye twitch, feeling his heart skip a beat. Was she toying with him? No, no, she had promised. She'd promised it was for real this time! "Who said she was toying with me this time?"

"Prussia, I mean it. Let her go. She's only using you. And if you don't believe that, at least tell me you have considered Canada's feelings."

His heart really did skip a beat this time. Canada. Birdie. He had to bring hands up to his head to fight the sudden rush of memory, of realization. "I...I forgot..." Gilbird was chirping at him now, something about how he needed to leave, how he should find his brother and find a way back. How this was all a stupid misunderstanding. How he was being manipulated. How things were...As much as Prussia loved Canada, he was here now; _she_ was here now. "But..." He bit his lip and met the eyes of the concerned Austrian. After all they'd been through why was _Austria_ concerned? It kind of pissed him off to see _pity_ from the haughty aristocrat. "There's too much...there's too much between Lizzy and I...it's..." He looked away. Sick of seeing such pity from the Austrian. "It's almost like things are going back to the way they were before."

He had longed for the past for so long. Been longing for everything to return to how it used to be. To having a nation again. To being friendly and more with Lizzy. To fighting Austria. To fighting in general. It was almost coming back. His glory days had been behind him for so long, this...it was...

_I'm a nation again. A micronation but still...it's something right? A special kind of nation, all mine._

_And who gave that to you?_

He shook his head, pushed the thought away. No, he was here. On his side of the world. In his old capital of all things. With Lizzy.

And when Austria just continued to stare at him with those eyes, it really did begin to piss him off. "I'm sorry, but it's not. When she's had her fun, she's going to drop you, and by that time Canada will be out of your reach."

Clenching his jaw, Prussia squeezed his hands into fists and glared at the aristocrat before him. "The fuck do you know? I don't care about all that anymore!"

It came out a little harsher than he'd meant, or maybe it had come out exactly how he wanted it. When Austria walked away, he shouldn't feel like calling him back. When the aristocrat finally decided to leave him alone, sighing over his shoulder, "The least you could do is tell Canada yourself instead of making him figure it out."

Wincing a little, he mumbled, "I would, actually, but..." He let out his breath and put a hand behind his neck, suddenly feeling like he deserved to be yelled at, deserved to be lectured. "Liz took my phone."

The admission caused Austria to freeze and spin around, eyes wide behind his glasses. "You let her take your phone?"

"It just kind of happened," Prussia responded, glancing away, giving a light shrug.

Even without looking at Austria, he could still see – or know – that the man was shaking his head. "Prussia, how can you not see this? For some reason, she doesn't want you with him, so she's playing you against him."

"Tch. She wouldn't do that."

"She's done it before."

Austria's cold hard reminder was enough to make Prussia's blood freeze. She had. Lizzy was terrible. She had broken all of his other friendships at one point or another, all in an effort to get him alone, so that he had only her. Was she really doing it again? Was she going to have him against the rest of the world?

No, she changed. She'd _promised_. It was for _real_ this time! So, he scowled at Austria and clenched his hands into fists, bringing them down to his sides. "Oh, right. I get it. You're jealous."

To which Roderich stuck-up rich-kid ass-hat only shook his head, sighed, and left him alone. Not another word. Not one. Like he'd given up. But seeing him walk away, Prussia almost wanted to call out for him. He wanted someone to fight him. Fight this stupid side of his stubborn personality. A part of him must have recognized the dumb decisions he was making. A part of him wanted to fix it, but the moment Lizzy came back on the scene, everything turned into a love sick fool.

...what the hell was _wrong_ with him?

~!~

When she made her way back to the albino, she was caught glaring at the back of the retreating Austrian. That one had been fun, too. If she was going to be honest, more than fun. There had been feelings there. Long after her feelings for Prussia left, the ones for Austria remained. Even now, she felt stirrings inside her chest at the sight of the quiet aristocrat. They had been divorced for several years now, yet still...

Just as she returned to Prussia's side, a sudden ringtone went off into the air. An anthem she didn't recognize. Of course it was an anthem. It was certainly not her phone vibrating and ringing. No, she didn't give nations their anthems as ringtones. Only Prussia did that.

Which would explain how he knew who was calling. "That's Birdie, Lizzy. Let me answer."

_Ah, well then, that makes things interesting, doesn't it?_

Pulling the old phone out of her pocket, Hungary put on a nice smile as she flipped it open and put it to her ear. "Hello."

Gilbert immediately frowned and reached for her. "Hey, wait a minute, Liz..."

She stepped to the side, dodging his reach while making it look innocent enough. Turning her back to Prussia, she pursed her lips and sighed exasperatedly into the phone. "Hello? You know it's rude to call someone and then not introduce yourself."

"Lizzy," Prussia whined from behind her, but she ignored him.

A much more interesting voice was at her ear, after all. A somewhat confused, put off-guard voice, like he had been expecting someone else. Of course he had been. That was exactly why she had taken Prussia's voice in the first place. To put the nobody nation off balance when he inevitably called...oh, and to make certain Gilbert knew his place...

"I-It's Matthew. I'm sorry, did I call the wrong number? I'm looking for Gilbert." Amazing how the child was still polite after everything that had happened. Most European nations would be raging. For sure, America would have been cursing up a storm.

Twirling some of her hair around a free finger, Elizaveta kept her grin. "Oh...right...Matthew. Don't worry, you have the right phone. I'm just afraid that poor Gil isn't available right now."

She could hear Gilbert's protest just behind her. He had a hand hovering just beyond her shoulder, like he was on the edge of spinning her around but couldn't decide if he actually wanted to go through with it or not. Perfect. "What? Don't tell him that! I'm right here!"

Canada's voice had a little shake in it when he next spoke, as Hungary continued to ignore the albino hovering behind her. "Oh...what is he doing right now?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, hun," she said, quickly.

She could almost hear the flinch, or maybe she was imagining it. No, certainly this little child would be broken and upset and go cry in a corner of the world alone somewhere. She was a little surprised to hear an intake of breath and a strong, steady tone of voice when the Canadian spoke next. "Just let me talk to him, Hungary. I – It's not a contest; I just want to ask him something."

She blinked, not having expected such strength from the shy nation. "Oh? And what do you want to ask him?"

Gilbert suddenly appeared in her vision, a few breathes from snatching the phone from her. She narrowed her eyes and glared, holding a finger up as if ordering him to wait. To her pleasure, he pulled back. Oh, he grumbled about it. Crossed his arms and tried to look as sullen as possible.

Still, it was Canada's strengthening voice that shocked her the most. "Look, I don't know why you seem to have nothing better to do, but leave Gil alone already."

"Oh ho ho ho, you think you know us?" Sighing and trying to fake some pity, she continued, talking down to the little nobody nation. "Oh you poor thing. You might as well quit now before you get hurt."

There was definitely a pause this time. The voice was softer when he spoke this time, but it still held that fire. Strange. She wasn't expecting such fire from him. "Just let me talk to him."

"Uhm, how about...no..."

But before she could comment further, Prussia actually had the nerve to take the phone from her grasp. She felt it leave and she stared wide-eyed as the albino began speaking to the nobody nation. "Hey, Birdie, I'm here."

How dare he? How _dare _he go against her order? She did _not_ want him talking to Canada right now. In fact, if she had her way, those two wouldn't ever meet again. Prussia was going to be _her _micro-nation. She would give him land in _her_ home if need be. He was named a micronation but she could move that land, couldn't she? Or would she just have to infiltrate the little city area he now could consider his?

No matter. The point was, he was not supposed to be snatching things from her hand. There would have to be more sessions. He _would_ be her little dog. _Hers_.

Setting her mouth in grim, angry determination, she pulled another thing from her skirts. These dresses could hide enormous things. One would never suspect. One would never guess what you could hide in such huge amounts of clothing. Her skillet never left home without her, especially when she knew she would be dealing with a certain Prussian albino.

She raised it and brought it down on the man's head, interrupting him mid-sentence, causing him to drop the phone and hold his head with both hands. "Ow, what the fuck, Liz?"

"Did I say you could have your phone back?" She glared at him, no longer sweet an innocent. This time she was serious. Mad. "It's very rude to take the phone from someone mid-conversation, you know."

She was a little surprised to see Gilbert scowl. "I think you're going too far..."

"Oh you do?" Turning her head to the side, she lowered the skillet and forced tears to leak from her eyes. "I thought you loved me, but if you don't want to do what I say..."

The reaction was perfect. "Shit! Don't cry, Liz. You know I'll always love you..."

Gilbert hated to see people cry, especially those he cared about on any level. He would go to war if someone cried. True, it didn't take much to get Prussia to go to war; he was always eager to march, but, it had become so easy to manipulate him when she learned of his aversion to tears. Of course, he usually pushed people away who cried too much, but once you were friends, once you had proven your strength...it didn't take much to make him feel awkward, to make him want to protect you, to make him want to never see those tracks of water.

Keeping her head turned, she forced more tears out, faked a little sob. Then arms wrapped around her and she fought the urge to smirk. She had him. Once again, she had him. "I love you, Liz. I do, but..."

"I love you too, Gil," she said, leaning against him.

"But...I..."

Choking the tears back, she looked up to him, fluttering her eyelashes, frowning in wariness. "But what, Gil?"

"I..." The red eyes closed. He took a deep breath. "I think I love him, too."

_Love both of us?_

She fought the urge to hiss, instead letting her eyes widen then narrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

He stepped away from her, hands traveling down to grip to her arms, facing her with a face that said he had discovered something big, as if he had experienced an epiphany. "I love both of you...what am I supposed to do?"

_Really, Gil? You love... _

She fought the sudden urge to smirk, turning it into a upset pout.

_You're confiding in me. You're asking me what to do about your feelings. Oh, but you are a lost cause sometimes. _

"But you love me more, don't you?"

He blinked and then hesitated, his eyes focusing inward for a moment as he seriously considered the question. Then they widened and she knew she had yet to win completely. "I don't know."

Forcing more tears to fall, she reached out to cling to him, as if she were desperate. "But you have to love me more!"

"Stop crying, damn it!" Gilbert cursed, reaching out to cup her face, wiping at the tears. "Please?"

Resting a hand on his wrist, she blinked and looked up into his eyes, making her lip quiver. "But you don't love me more."

"What do you want me to say?" Prussia said, his voice echoing his feelings, his torn, almost anguished confusion. "I _really_ think you're the one, but...I...I can't...I don't know...I'm just so confused..."

Lifting her lips into a smile, she cooed. "Well, you know what will help?"

Without explaining herself, she lifted up on her toes and pecked his lips with hers. She felt him tense and then relax underneath her, so she kept her lips there for a few moments. Let him relax. Let him remember what it felt like. Let him fall into it. Let everything fall neatly into place.

She pulled back and smiled up at him. "Well? Have your answer yet?"

He nodded, seeming to be a bit dazed, but he voiced nothing. The most she got was a light hum before he leaned down to try to force another kiss.

This time she put a finger across his lips and winked at him. "Not here, Gilly. We're in public."

This coaxed a blush from him as he pulled back and stared at her. "Since when did being in public matter to you?"

She wanted to growl, but instead she glared for a few seconds, getting him to blink and stare when she broke into a smile and pranced on her next words. "When you fell in love with a nobody nation~"

"H-huh?"

The meaning lost on him, Hungary decided to drop it. "Let's just get to your house, all right?"

"My house? Uh, Lizzy, I hate to break it to you, but I don't exactly..."

She sighed. "You're still living with Germany, aren't you?"

"Uh, I guess..." The answer wasn't enough. He even seemed to be hesitating, like he knew the truth was going to piss her off. She waited patiently. "I _have_ been living with Canada for the past few months, though..."

This caused her eyes to narrow again. "You've been living with him?"

"Tch. Yeah. Why not?"

Glancing away from him, faking her hurt, she murmured. "I can't believe you never told me."

"Aw, Lizzy, it just started out as a bet and..." He sighed long and loud and then hung his head. "I can promise you..."

_Promise?_

Her head shot up, ears perked, listening hard. He was really going to say something. He was going to give her something. A promise from Prussia meant everything. He wouldn't break it. No matter how ridiculous. He refused to break his word. Something about his past. It was near impossible to coax a promise from his lips, but here he was...letting one free so flippantly...so easily...

She held her breath.

"I can promise you from now on I won't do anything without your permission. Will that make up for it? Make you feel better?"

Her heart soared. She reached out, took his hand, and tried her best to make the satisfied smirk be nothing more suspicious than a happy smile. "Yes, yes it does, Gil."

_He's mine. Perfectly trapped. All mine. Forever. _

_It was almost too easy._

"Now, let's go to your brother's place," she said, leading him along, pleased to have him relaxed and following obediently. So obedient. Russia would have _killed_ for this power. Ah, but it was all for her.

_All...mine..._

~!~

_A/N: Why would Hungary and Austria have private planes that land in the Berlin airport. I don't know, maybe they had plans in Germany? I mean, Hungary did, so I guess Austria had something to do, too. Ah well._

_-I can't tell you how many times I wanted to strangle Hungary while writing this. Just shake her up really good._

_-Headcanon: Prussia never breaks his word. Always means what he says. At some point or other promised Fritz that he'd never break his word, so when he gives a promise – he'll follow it. Which means this is a big deal. Because he's being a fucking dumb ass. _

_-I have had this discussion with my sister. In a nutshell: "1st book: oh poor Canada" "2nd book: poor Prussia." I mean, seriously, he's being manipulated and shit and well, all this other shit happens later, but we'll get there. I just can't wait until Canada breaks loose to show Hungary what's what. ~ _

_Kairi: "The hit heard around the world. It started the war between Prussia fangirls and Hungary. The Hungarian government has no clue." - when discussing Hungary hitting Prussia with the frying pan and interrupting his chance to talk with Canada_

_~~Thank you for all reviews/alerts/favorites and for being so patient with me as I juggle this and school~~  
_

_~Reda_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author Notes****: **Look! Look! Let's see what Canada is up to, shall we?

-Fyi: I actually use my profile to post information about my stories. Some other stuff is up there, too, but most of it is information on each story – some stories that are in progress or in the works – and the most important part is the fact that I keep an updated percent complete on every story currently in progress. So it's worth checking out! Okay, shameless plug over xD

-I hope this chapter addresses some concerns.

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 6

~!~

Arthur sighed as he parked the car and America jumped out before he could even turn the engine off. Idiot couldn't even wait patiently now. Matthew had driven back on his own in the middle of the night. They had only realized it this morning. Bloody hell but America wasn't the only crazy one on this side of the world. Apparently, Matthew had been influenced by the hasty American, too. Couldn't the lad at least wait for morning before driving? Wasn't it dangerous to drive at night?

He sighed again, pushing it to the side. Matthew usually wasn't like this, though. Everything that had happened. Prussia leaving with Hungary. That set things off balance for sure. It shouldn't be such a surprise to see the Canadian acting with more haste than usual.

Walking up to the Canadian's front door – familiar now, with how many times they had come here in the past few months alone – he managed to catch Alfred's loud shout echoing through the mostly empty house. "Hey, bro! I know you wanted to handle this on your own, but I wouldn't be a hero if I didn't come help!"

As Arthur stepped into the entry way, he caught Canada's response. A short, clipped answer. "Don't need help!"

Alfred shouted back. "Yeah, you do!"

"Nu uh!"

"Uh huh!"

"Boys! Stop -"

He caught himself, stopping short. Freezing mid step. It had been too reminiscent of times from the past. With the two laughing, even. It seemed so unreal. Why? Were they? What?

_Oh god...they're still children...reminding me of..._

He pushed the old memories away. Better to let those moments lie in history. Even if the brothers were still playfully bantering. Bantering without real words. Like children. In any normal situation, it would have been funny. Perhaps.

With a groan, he stepped into the kitchen, seeing Alfred digging into the refrigerator. "Alfred, really?"

Arthur was still trying to wrap his mind around how Matthew was able to banter back with America like that, after everything that had happened to him. Canada wasn't known for _acting_ like that, not anymore. America was the child. Prussia was the child. But Matthew was a grown up. Never letting the immature side out. Hell, Arthur had been sure that Matthew didn't _have_ an immature side anymore.

He'd been wrong. There were many sides to the Canadian yet to see, apparently. Because when Alfred turned to grin at him, already stuffing his face with the half-eaten sandwich he had found, Matthew appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. His eyes not at all playful. Not at all joking. Not at all childish.

"Al, I was serious. I don't need help."

Arthur felt himself freeze as the Canadian's gaze washed over him. It was so wrong. So out of character. So dead set and hard. It made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, unable to comment on the situation.

Apparently, Alfred had no such problem. "Mattie, I don't care what you say. I'm helping."

Blue eyes met blue each behind a pair of glasses. Arthur had never felt so out of place in his life. He stared at the both of them. Studied them. Neither moved. Like two stubborn idiots refusing to budge. Oh, how did it come to this? These two shouldn't be fighting. Especially not over something so trivial.

Finally, Arthur found his voice, stepping close to Alfred and setting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, Alfred, really. This is Matthew's decision. You shouldn't -"

"Fine," Matthew said suddenly, interrupting Arthur without a care. "You can help me pack his shit. But that's it. I'm going over there myself."

"Wait what -" Arthur spluttered.

"Great," Alfred said, stuffing the rest of the food in his mouth before chewing, swallowing, and then grabbing Arthur's hand. "Come on, Artie, let's help."

It was so much without an explanation. He had no idea what was going on. Pack whose things? Why? Go where? What was Matthew talking about? Why wasn't he upset and moping? What was he planning? Why did Alfred seem to understand?

He was dragged into the other room, still confused about everything, as Alfred followed Matthew through the house. They stopped to pick up little odds and ends. And then they hit the bedroom. There was a bag. Open and holding mostly clothes. Folded haphazardly. As if most of them weren't even clean.

Still, it wasn't until Matthew reached for the flute on the dresser that it clicked. Prussia's things. They were packing Prussia's things.

"Now, wait just a moment."

Canada turned to him, eyes hard but still curious, waiting, patient. "What is it?"

Shaking his head, Arthur found himself once again doing something he never imagined he would do. "Why on earth are you packing his things? Weren't you going to go over to Hungary and pull him back?"

Canada's eyes hardened, eyebrows narrowed. "He left me."

"Yeah, but -"

"He left me," Matthew repeated. "I'm not so sure I want him back."

For some reason, the realization hit like a piece of cold ice sliding down his spine. Canada wasn't going to take Prussia back. They were all expecting him to, but – the fact did remain. Prussia had cheated on him. And Canada apparently wasn't going to let that slide. Not easily. He certainly wasn't going to welcome the idiot back with open arms, was he?

And Arthur yet again found himself standing on Prussia's side. When had he become a defender of Prussia? Honestly, why was he sticking his neck out in his own relationship to defend the bloody idiot all the time? "He's being tricked, Mat-"

"Does it matter, Iggy?" Alfred shot in. "Prussia cheated on my brother. Does anything else matter?"

Trapped between the both of them, he felt even more at odds. They just didn't understand. And how could they? The both of them had been mere colonies or not even born when Prussia was a force in Europe. They _couldn't_ understand how that man worked, how he thought, how easily relationships flipped on and off back then, how Gilbert was still very much stuck in that way of thinking.

Arthur sighed. "All right. I won't fight it." He glanced up to Canada. "But you _must_ give him a chance."

Matthew looked away, holding the flute, staring down at the instrument in his hands. "That's why I'm going to see him personally. I have to know..."

~!~

Canada stared down at the flute, wondering to himself why he was even bothering. During the night, he had managed to shelve away most of his feelings for Prussia. The anger was strong now. The feeling of rejection, the hurt, the pain, that was all nicely tucked away. The anger was more than strong enough to march over to Eastern Europe and throw Prussia's things back in his face.

But something else was there, too. And it wasn't until he began to analyze the _we're nations_ thought that it clicked. Prussia was a micro-nation. _His_ micro-nation. Or, at least, he _should_ belong to Canada. Matthew had been the one to create that little spot of land and name it in Prussia's name. Matthew had been the one to cut a piece of himself out for Gilbert.

Only to have that idiot run over the generosity and not even look back...

There. The anger rushed through him again. It took every ounce of mature control he had not to break the flute in two. Everyone was telling him to give Prussia another chance. That it was Hungary's fault. That the albino was a fool and couldn't read his own feelings. As if Prussia wasn't responsible for his actions.

But no, Canada wasn't about to let Gilbert get away with it. Cheating was not easily passed by as a small mistake. Cheating was cheating and no matter what the reason or who – Gilbert was going to have to work especially extra hard if he even wanted a chance.

When Matthew looked up and met Arthur's eyes – Arthur, England, _defending_ Prussia of all people – he tried to make it clear. Second chances were not easily won over. No matter _what_ the situation.

There was no excuse. If anything, when Canada made his way over to Eastern Europe, Prussia would _pay_ for the embarrassment, for the bruised heart, for the pain, for the tears, for the...

_Dieu, Gil...what am I going to say when I see you? What are you going to say when you see me? What am I going to do? I just don't know anymore..._

~!~

Germany and Italy were sitting in Ludwig's house, watching a television broadcast together. It was some old movie. Something rather absurd involving a vampire. Honestly, the choice had been rather random, and mostly just Italy wanting to choose anything to watch together. A way to spend the evening. A way to relax from the stress of the day. From the stress of the world meeting.

Of course, Ludwig always had a hard time escaping from the world. To his surprise, a key entered the lock of his front door, and he could hear it turn and open. He frowned, reaching out to pull Italy closer, ready to spring to his feet at a moment's notice. But then two figures came into the room and everything made sense.

Well, not everything.

Hungary's entrance caused the Italian beside him to jump up and grin immediately. "Hungary! Ciao! Ciao!"

Ludwig didn't let his eyes stare at her long enough, even as she smiled and responded, nodding her head politely toward the both of them. "It is nice to see you again, Italy. How is everything?"

No, it wasn't Hungary's entrance that had him tense up. It was Prussia's. His brother stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms, and lifting a hand in greeting. "Yo, West!"

Ludwig narrowed his eyes, recognizing the positioning, the posture. Prussia was hanging in Hungary's shadow. Again. He glared at his brother, making sure the albino would know his displeasure. It was absurd. Ridiculous. After everything he had been through with Canada, his brother was _really_ going to jump at Hungary's call once again? Had his brother not learned? Had he not grown up? Had he not -

Ludwig wanted to snap, wanted to shove his brother against a wall and beat him for what he had done. But Italy was being genuinely nice and polite and accommodating, still having a conversation with Hungary. "Everything's going great."

"You simply must tell me all about it," Elizaveta said lightly, taking Feliciano's arm and leading the Italian away. Toward the back.

Ludwig met her eyes, catching somewhat of a strange understanding, which only served to ignite his frustration more. That Hungary should understand he wanted to be alone with Prussia. That she should turn around and give a sort of nod to his brother, too. Like a permission to stay here, and Prussia even nodded back, as if acknowledging some secret command.

At least Hungary was smart enough to leave them alone, and even smart enough to take Italy out of the room, too. Let those two enjoy themselves. Turning his gaze back to Prussia, Ludwig lowered his eyebrows. He had an idiot brother to deal with.

"_Bruder_, what are you doing?"

"I'm visiting," Prussia said. "Aren't I allowed to do that much?"

Setting his mouth in a thin frown, Germany let his eyes flash. "I meant what are you doing with Hungary? Did something happen between you and America's brother?"

The mention of Canada got a reaction. A small grimace as red eyes glanced away. "No...Yes...Well..." A pale hand came up, gesturing toward the back door. "She came back to me."

Ludwig shook his head. "You know as well as I do that she's more than likely just jealous. She saw you and Matthew kissing."

"No!" Prussia's shout was expected but the desperation hiding underneath it was not. "It's more than that!"

_You've messed up, and you know you've messed up...and now you're in denial..._

Still sitting on the couch, still looking up at him, Germany clasped his hands together and raised his eyebrows, somehow still able to make himself appear taller than his brother even when sitting down. "Really? You show up to the meeting, kiss Canada repeatedly, and suddenly she wants you back? You must see the holes in this."

"Nein!" Prussia snapped again, reverting to the German language, shaking his head, shutting his eyes as if he could erase the idea of it not being true. "She hasn't seen me in so long. And I'm a nation again! It has nothing to do with Canada or jealousy or anything like that! She's back for real this time!"

Unable to take his idiotic brother's whining and absurd denial any longer, Germany clenched his hand into a fist and sprang up from the couch. With his brother not looking, it was easy to move without the man noticing. It was easy to stand in front of him. Easy to pull back. Easy to slam his fist into Gilbert's face.

"Open your eyes, _bruder_!" He reached out with his other hand, grabbing at Prussia's shirt collar, holding him up, watching the red eyes open and widen when Ludwig raised his fist again. "She's using you!"

Gilbert's hands dropped to his side and Ludwig glanced down to notice that they were shaking, also seeing that he had lifted Prussia off his feet. Which would explain why they were suddenly eye-to-eye. Gil always had been the shorter of the two of them. Prussia was still in shock of some kind, a little blood leaking from the side of his eye where the punch had broken skin.

"N-nein...She...She loves me...She has to..."

"NEIN!" Germany shouted back, wishing he really could beat this into the stubborn idiot's mind. "_Canada_ loves you; he would never hurt you! _She_ beats you constantly, and you just take it like a whipped dog!"

The insult was enough to snap Prussia into action. Fire suddenly exploded in the albino's red eyes. The tackle was unexpected. In the space of a blink, the German brothers were on the floor, and Prussia was holding onto Germany's shirt collar, as if the very animal comparison was enough to send him into a rage. "Don't. Fucking. Call. Me. That."

After the moment of surprise, Ludwig grit his teeth and easily flipped them around so that he had his older brother pinned to the floor. Pulling the man's hands off of him and gripping to those pale wrists, forcing them against the ground, he growled into his brother's face. "Would you listen to me? There's something you don't know about her!"

Prussia immediately started struggling, scowling when he was unsuccessful. "Would you just leave me alone?"

For all of Gil's past, for all of his strength from his older days, Germany was the stronger of the two, especially now. The German brothers had switched their power – and Prussia liked to say he gave his power and empire to his younger brother. Of course now it allowed Ludwig to beat some sense into the idiot.

"Nein, I'm not going to let you hurt yourself again!"

"Fuck!" Prussia exclaimed, those eyes refusing to look at him, still struggling, though weakly now as if realizing there was no breaking free of the younger German nation. "Let me go!"

He growled again, and then shut his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath before opening his eyes to look down at what his brother had become. "Prussia, I'm begging you. Don't let yourself get caught up in this again. She's not who you think she is."

As if the change of voice, change in tone, was all the albino needed, Gilbert stopped struggling, looking up at Ludwig, but not saying anything. There was an awkward moment as the two brothers faced each other. Ludwig decided it would be best if he continued to keep Prussia pinned. There was no telling what the man would do at even the slightest hint of freedom.

"Do you remember anything about what you learned after that first month?" He said it softly, noting how Prussia looked away, red eyes staring off to the side. "Or even while you were trapped with him?" He watched the pale jaw clench and knew his brother was fighting the obvious now, but at least he was listening.

At least he was listening.

"You can't let all of that mean nothing," Ludwig said, giving it a few more seconds before he dropped his grip and climbed off of Gilbert.

Prussia's whisper sounded shaky, scratchy, almost pathetic. "It doesn't...I don't...I mean, I can't..." The albino didn't get up and fight; he didn't put hands over his ears and refuse to listen; he simply rolled on his side and faced away from Ludwig, as if hiding something.

Ludwig shook his head. "You can still fix this. You might still have a chance, but you have to tell Hungary. Tell her you're already with someone."

"Can't do that, West," Prussia mumbled.

Germany blinked. "And why not? Dump her; she deserves it, anyway."

"Well, I – I kind of already promised her something..."

Ludwig felt his eyes widen. A promise. A promise from Prussia meant everything. The idiot would follow it to the word, to the letter, and then some. Hungary knew it, too. Oh Gott, if she had found a way to control Gil with his own words...

"You didn't..."

"Oh, it's just something small, really," Prussia mumbled again, still facing away.

Ludwig felt his eyebrows lower, suddenly very concerned. "_Bruder_. What did you promise her?"

Seeing as Prussia still refused to look at him, he couldn't be sure if the squeak he heard was actually correct. It must have been a trick of his ears. Something else. Prussia didn't squeak. "Oh heh...just that I'd..." A deep breath. And then a quiet, low, clearly depressed voice. "I wouldn't do anything without her permission."

_You...you idiot! You damnable idiot, you let her trap you!_

Fighting the urge to beat his brother up some more, Ludwig simply settled for throwing the palm of his hand into his face and groaning. "Oh, _bruder_, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"H-Hey, West?"

"Ja?"

"Could you tell Birdie the truth? Maybe explain it to him?" Another deep breath, and a sigh, punctuated by a sniff as if he were crying. "I doubt Elizaveta's going to let me talk to him."

Crying. Prussia. _At least you realize how much of an idiot you are, but verdammt, bruder, I don't know how you're going to fix __this one..._

With a sigh of his own, Ludwig nodded. "Ja. I promise."

"A-and, one more thing." Prussia took a moment to say this one, sitting up, rubbing at his face with an arm as he turned to look at Germany. Meeting his eyes. Red eyes rimmed with tears. Pale cheeks almost glistening in the light. _Gott, he's really upset about it. _"Tell him he can keep the flute."

_What?_

Feeling his mouth drop open and eyes bulge, Germany had to sit there for several moments before he could even think. Before he could comment, say anything, ask about it, Hungary was in the room with Italy beside her. "Oh, Gilly, you ready to head out? We still need to get you some new clothes."

Prussia sprang to his feet, masking everything else, and Germany was left to sit on the floor, leaning against his couch, staring up with shocked eyes for a few more minutes.

His flute. Prussia was willing to give his flute to Canada. The flute that had belonged to Fritz. The flute he carried with him whenever he visited an area. The flute he let no one else touch. The flute he cherished above anything else in this world. One of the few things that still remained of his favorite king, of his glory days, of the best times of his life.

And he was giving it to Canada.

~!~

_A/N: I don't know what to say anymore. At the very, very beginning, I warned about this first part making you want to kill me, eh? _

_-I wrote a "what could have been" one shot smex fic about Prussia and England, and for some reason have come to the conclusion that those two would defend each other in the most random absurd moments. Of course, Arthur also refers to another of my headcanons: the idea that nations in the past flitted from one relationship to another at every turn and that everyone was pretty promiscuous, especially during wars when winning a decisive battle could earn a right to bed the losing country. ANYWAY. That's headcanon. And a part of the reason why Arthur's like "ah, these kids don't understand what 'Prussia being stuck in the past' really means." Anywho. I ship everything. Time and place for everything, but yes, I think I can make any pairing work in my weird head._

_-My sister has recently noted that she is not near as good at letting characters develop on their own, so I've made some tweaks to our role-play to make sure that Canada does not drift into "crybaby" mode. Personally, we wanted PruCan to get back together really fast, and I'm having to work to slow it down and make things frustrating. It's frustrating. Ah. _

_-There. Germany beat up Prussia for all you people that wanted someone to beat some sense into our lovable but idiotic albino. _

_-Why is the flute a big deal? I may have discussed this in One Month, but, seriously, I have set it as the last remaining remnant of Fritz; seeing as I ship FritzxPrussia (and even if you don't ship them, you can at least admit that they had to be really close on some level). Anyway, Fritz was probably at the height of Prussian history (I'm currently reading a lot of stuff to expand my knowledge of the time when Prussia existed), and anything that comes from that period of history would mean a lot to the man who no longer has his awesome nation. Hence the flute meaning a lot. A LOT. And Prussia being willing to give it up to Canada is a BIG THING. BIIIIIIIIIG. _

_-Anywho. My commentary on my chapter. Next chapter: France and Spain join in on the fun. Hyah! _

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites/etc, I love them all, I take everything into account, and I really hope you can stick with me through this Hungary arc because there's some SERIOUS comic relief coming up soon~~_

_~Reda_

_PS: Every 50th reviewer gets a free one-shot - and I just said I was willing to try any pairing, 'cause I pretty much ship everything on some level (though my OTP has recently been decided as USUK, hah) - and we are currently three reviews away from #50. So, charge forth?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Notes****:**

-I need to learn to write more from France's point of view. Heh.

-Honestly, I think anything with France and Spain together counts as comic relief, but we'll see what you think, hm? And if this isn't good enough, there's more in the future. Trust me.

-Every scene break is a time-skip, okay? (ie: instead of me saying "a little time has passed" I just put a little scene break instead; it's all pretty much the same guys and their long ass trip to Hungary's place)

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 7

~!~

Francis Bonnefoy stepped out of the crowd of humans flocking through the Berlin airport. Finding a vantage point to wait for others, he stopped and stared into the crowd. After the call from Canada, he had decided to grab Toni and go scouring the Hungarian countryside – if they had to – in order to beat some sense into their best friend. Spain had seemed extra willing to jump on board the plan, but that was Antonio for you. Once he had a good enough reason, he jumped at the chance to beat someone up; it was his own monster, his personality switch.

They all had them, he supposed. Though Russia's had been noted as the creepiest. The cold hearted winter nation was so difficult to read, and his inner monster was truly terrible and unpredictable. It was the unpredictable part that made everyone most afraid of him – or of any nation personality switch. Most of them had experienced such a thing at one point or another.

_Angelterre_, for example, as the British Empire. A monster in itself, though mostly just an asshat who liked to parade his power over the world.

Germany and his World War II German Empire side – the great monster inside that everyone knew existed now. The monster that was enough to make Italy break away from him near the end of the war.

Prussia had his own. France had his own, though it was very much so under control these days. Spain had moments. Quick moments. Especially when it involved the safety of the ones he loved.

Anyway, the point was, that he, Francis Bonnefoy, had taken a trip in order to beat some sense into the idiot of a Prussian he called friend. After hearing the news about Prussia and Canada being happy, and then hearing how Gilbert had run off to Hungary _again_... that senseless idiot needed someone to pound the meaning of love into his brain. It wasn't the old days anymore. The eighteenth century and before... Prussia had jumped into world affairs and been just as promiscuous as the rest of them, trading sex for alliances, using sex as a reward for decisive battles...

But life wasn't _like_ that anymore. Gil needed to learn better. And who better to teach him a lesson, then his two best friends in the whole world?

"Found you, Francis," Spain's cheery voice popped up beside him and France would not admit to the fact that he _jumped_ at the sound.

With Antonio laughing at him, France composed himself and then laughed along with him. "Took you long enough. You feeling the years yet, old friend?"

Spain made a face at him and then shrugged. "I'm just upset they wouldn't let me bring my axe."

France felt his eye twitch. Toni and his axe... "You know airport security these days." He sent a glance to the brown haired tan Spanish man, who was dressed rather simply for the occasion. Not at all as well versed in fashion as he was, of course. "Though even I think having your ax on a plane is a bit silly."

"Stupid America and his stupid terrorists," Toni muttered.

At first, Francis blinked. Then he recalled that it was easy to blame America's new found War on Terror for all the ridiculous new rules regarding air travel. Everyone had gotten a bit paranoid, though they'd honestly been dealing with terrorist attacks for years whether or not the stupid brat was aware of it.

"I agree with you there," France finally said, throwing his hands into his pockets and beginning to stride back into the crowd of humans walking out of the airport.

Spain followed him, as Spain always did. "So, where are we going exactly?"

Of course the moment France froze, recognizing a distinct hair curl amid all the blonde, Antonio nearly stumbled into the aforementioned person. Reaching out quickly, Francis grabbed hold of Toni's shirt collar and pulled him back just in time. Seeing as he managed to catch the man's attention, he smiled.

"Ah, Mathieu, how are you?"

Looking up at him, Canada blinked. "H-huh? Papa? What are you doing here?"

This he had not expected. To run into Canada in the Berlin airport. Though his advice had been to chase after Prussia, he hadn't expected the little Canadian to actually do it – well, not so quickly, at least. Though it was nice to see the face absent of tears, if a little unexpected. He knew Mathieu could be strong – Francis seemed to believe in his strength more than others – but catching your lover cheating _was_ a big deal. Even to him. It made him wonder what Canada's true intentions were in this visit.

Seeing that he had to give an answer, though, he shrugged. "After hearing that Gilbert was back with Elizaveta, we had to step in." He glanced over to Spain and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, grinning. "We can't be the Bad Friends Trio without our albino, right, Toni?"

Antonio didn't respond to him, smiling at something else, waving and calling out in Spanish to some cute female who had been staring at the three of them. Francis ignored him, focusing on Canada instead, seeing the man nod and look away, head moving back and forth as if searching for someone. "I'm supposed to be meeting Germany here."

France blinked. "Oh? He's in on it too, is he?" Then he laughed. "It seems we will have everyone at Hungary's 'ouse beating down the door..." Then he frowned, letting go of Toni in the process as an idea struck his brain. "This won't count as war, will it?"

Narrowed eyes turned a glare toward him – thankfully not _at_ him – but it still wasn't something he'd been expecting so he took a step back. "If it does, I'll nuke every single inch of her." Before Francis could comment, Mathieu blinked and glanced away, though the fire only seemed to dim. "Sorry. I don't know where that came from."

"Mathieu, are you sure you're okay?" Francis asked, taking a step toward the younger nation, the one who had once been a colony of his. "I have never heard you...speak like that before..."

Canada smiled up at him. "I'll be okay." And then his eyes glared again, and the smile dipped. "Once we bring that bitch down." With a shake of the head, he looked up at France again, seeming a little lost, and a little embarrassed about what was coming out of his mouth in public.

Francis could only sigh. Nation personalities. It was only a matter of time, he supposed, until Canada was affected like the rest of them. Give him a reason to show the inner monster, and there was no holding it back. Emotional trauma was one reason. Any kind of trauma could bring it out, really. Studying the blonde nation that once was his, France frowned. Though that side _did_ seem familiar...from somewhere...

Before he could comment on it, however, two new faces showed themselves. "You ready to go?"

Looking up, Francis saw a familiar German man standing in part of his old uniform getup. The jacket draped over his shoulders but not with the arms through the sleeves. There was even that familiar hat sitting on his head. It was gathering attention from the crowd, but not enough to garner true curiosity. Then again, most Germans probably didn't want to deal with someone in an old World War uniform. It made him wonder what Ludwig's connection was to his people.

Of course, the little Italian that danced along beside him added color to the stoic man's presence. It made Francis smile. Little Italy was always adorable and even grown up, he was still adorable. Even if he had to be hanging onto Germany instead of visiting his "big brother France." He sighed. Such was life.

"Oui," Mathieu was saying, nodding to Germany. "I'm ready to face them."

_Them? So you consider them together? What **are** your intentions, Mathieu?_

"Hola~" Spain's untimely addition to the conversation made it impossible for Francis to pull Canada aside. After all, the blonde nation was now the center of attention, at least in their little group.

And they _were_ gathering attention from the crowds now. It would probably be best if they started leaving.

But Ludwig didn't move. Instead, he nodded to Spain, as if acknowledging his presence. "I assume you are here for Gil, too?"

How dare the German not even greet him! Just because of their bad past. _And so many cuckoo-clocks_. "Oui~" Francis interjected into the conversation, smiling politely at Germany. "But I am not so sure about this starting a war possibility."

"V-Ve? What?" Italy exclaimed, his happy smile dropping at the idea. "I don't want to start a war!"

Mathieu shook his head, though, reaching a hand out to calm the little Italian. "I don't think it will get that serious."

"Let's hope not," Ludwig added, looking away, and then _finally_ starting to walk outside.

Trying to keep things casual, Francis followed behind the German, letting out a wistful sigh. "Yeah, if it did, do you realize how much more annoying Gilbert would be? Ah I can hear it now with the 'I'm so awesome – everyone's fighting over me.' He's bad enough as it is, but such a thing would only succeed at stroking his ego even more."

He noticed Mathieu tense, and was about to turn to comfort him when he saw that fiery gaze was back in those usually soft blue eyes. "I don't want to do anything that would stroke his ego. I want him to pay for what he's done."

_Oh...Dieu...what have we created..._

~!~

Once inside the car, the conversation calmed down a little. France and Spain were sitting in the back with Canada, who was up against the side. Italy was, of course, in the front. And Germany was, of course, driving. The truth was, the drive to Hungary's house could take eight hours. But Ludwig was apparently a master at speeding and had the quickest reflects when in the car. So, perhaps it wouldn't take as long as a normal human.

...as long as they didn't get pulled over, but Italy assured them that Germany was a great driver and knew how to handle such things. So, they didn't worry.

Much.

To occupy his time, France glanced around the car, noting the large bag at Canada's feet. Deciding to start a conversation, because even with an Italian in the car there seemed to be an awkward silence hovering over them all, France poked his neck out and asked what everyone else seemed to be avoiding.

"What all do you have in there?" He asked, nodding toward Canada's bag.

A sigh was his response. Sadly, he couldn't place it. Sad? Maybe? "Prussia's stuff...including his flute..."

Antonio perked up from the other side of France, head craning to look at Canada. "You have his flute?"

About the same time that Italy finally showed his voice. "Why did you bring his stuff?"

For his part, Francis blinked. _His flute_. _Canada has his flute? _

"When did you get his flute?"

And, apparently, with all those questions about the flute, Mathieu was going to ignore them and instead shake his head and focus on Italy's question instead. "Because...unless he can prove something to me, I don't want him – and I don't want his shit in my house, either."

_Dieu, he's serious. He doesn't understand. Or he's really hurt. Gil, you are such an **idiot**_**.**

Seeing as France found his tongue tied in his mouth, it took Germany to break the silence this time. "Matthew, trust me. If he was willing to give the flute to you..."

_Wait, he did what now...?_

Leaning forward, Francis pressed a hand against Canada's leg. This was a big deal. A very big deal. Anyone who knew Prussia, knew it was a very, _very_ big deal. Prussia didn't just _give_ his flute away. "He gave his flute...the flute from Frederick the Great...one of his most coveted possessions...he gave it to you?"

He hardly noticed when Canada started to shuffle away from his touch. "He...played it for me a while back..."

"He played it for you?!" Ludwig's exclamation was exactly what the rest of them were thinking, and Francis noticed the German sitting up straighter in his seat.

Keeping his hand on Canada's leg, he pursed his lips. "You realize it's hard as hell to get him to play that thing, right?"

A confused blink. "What? But I only asked him once, and he seemed pretty excited to me."

Francis shook his head. "He loves to play but never around other people. I mean, we'll manage to convince him from time to time, but -" He pulled his hand back. Sat back in his seat, letting out a light laugh, as he muttered mostly to himself. "Asked him once? Wow."

_Gil...you really are an idiot. Your actions were telling you who you loved more than anything, and you ran off with her again anyway. I can't believe the mess you've left me to clean up._

Spain was picking up the train of thought, nodding from beside him. "Si, but when we do convince him, he never plays anything for very long."

"What? Really?" Mathieu said, a quick glance over showing his widening eyes.

"Yeah, really," France nodded. "He's a stubborn one. He keeps all that talent to himself."

And then Germany said the most perfect thing. "You must mean a lot to him." Like setting the nail in the coffin.

_Come on, see it. Just admit that he's an idiot, put him through hell for a little bit if you like, but take him back. Take that idiot back. He doesn't deserve you, Mathieu, but I'm tired of seeing him go through this cycle._

"I bet you mean more to him than Hungary ever did," Italy added, smiling from his seat.

Mathieu wasn't looking at any of them. He had turned back to face the outside. Staring at the window. But his hands were shaking now. His eyebrows were furrowed, like he was thinking. Thinking hard. Francis let it be.

"Dieu," Canada muttered, under his breath, but it was enough to give Francis hope.

~!~

"Can you play the flute, Mathieu?"

It was a question that was bugging him. He couldn't remember Canada ever learning a musical instrument. Sure, he had liked the songs coming from France's nation. He could probably remember the lullabies, too. Not to mention, all the fights over music choices whenever Arthur was in the same house. Their little family. Broken as it may be. At least they had music. Still, he couldn't remember Canada ever learning an instrument, though Arthur had secretly taught America a little violin – the cheating bastard doing that behind his back and not teaching a damn thing to Canada.

"Non..." Mathieu answered, shaking his head. "And he knows that."

Spain piped up again. The man was in and out of every conversation. Flitting in with random statements and then flitting out again. Sometimes, he wondered what went on in that crazy Spanish man's head. Sometimes, he didn't want to know. "Then why would he give it to you?"

Of course, it was the perfect opening for Francis, even if he had to playfully smack Spain over the head. "That is a stupid question, mon ami. It is obviously a statement of love ~ You know as well as I that Prussia is terrible at expressing his feelings and chooses obscure ways to do so."

A giggle from the front seat caught his attention, seeing Italy smiling at Germany with eyes that Francis longed to see directed at him. (Not that he wanted Italy's attention per se, just someone. Ever since Jean...He shook the memory away the moment it hit, focusing back into the world of the living). "He really is just like Germany~"

Growling at being hit, Spain grumbled. "Well, how was I supposed to know that?"

With a roll of his eyes, Francis turned his attention back to Canada. He was going to play match maker if he had to. He _had_ to get these two back together. Even if Mathieu was completely justified with wanting to throw Prussia to the curb and forget everything. Even if Mathieu was justified in giving up on the one who had taken a gift and ran away.

_Seriously, mon ami, he gives you a nation again – though only a micronation and not technically recognized – and you run off with Hungary? I am going to beat you up myself for that one._

"I don't care," Canada muttered, every eye turning to him. "He left me. He cheated on me and left without even a single word. You want me to take him back?" The man turned to face outside the window again. "He's going to have to explain himself, and it better be good enough. You keep talking how he's pinned to her? How he's almost forcibly pulled along by her?" Those eyes flashed again. "Unless she's got him in chains, I don't think it excuses anything. And even then – I -"

Francis frowned. "Oh, Mathieu..."

But Canada wasn't finished apparently. "All this talk about he loves me, he loves her. I heard him say it! I heard him say to her that he'd always loved her!" The nation was pulling his feet up awkwardly in the seat, resting his arms on his legs. "I don't understand his past, but I don't think that gives him an excuse! If he really loved me, why did he go off with her?"

"Nein!" Germany snapped, breaking the budding fire in the car, even as he continued to drive. "You have to understand why the complications are there, Canada. It's not about whether he loves you or her. He _knows_ he messed up. That's _why_ he told me to tell you that you could keep his flute – his _most prized possession_, Canada – to _you!"_

"Yeah, he never offered to give that to Hungary, did he? After all those years he knew her, he didn't even think of giving it over. Not even to her," Spain chimed in, the only one brave enough to break through the German's raised voice.

Francis could see the hard blue eyes glaring at the Spanish man through the rearview mirror, but he didn't say anything. Probably because Spain's interruption was really useful to the argument. Germany continued, his voice not quite as harsh, sighing as if trying to relax himself. "It's about that promise he made."

Francis blinked at the new information. "Prussia made a promise?" He smacked a hand to his face. "Oh dear lord, he is an imbecile." After a few more awkward moments of silence, he continued. "Can I ask what the promise was? How deep in trouble is he?"

To his surprise, Canada was the one to sigh and respond. "He promised he wouldn't do anything without her permission." _Oh, right. He had organized this meeting with Germany; that must be how he knows. _Something snapped in the little Canadian, and he growled out. "And he's not in as much trouble as her, right now."

Staring with wide-eyes, Francis found himself inching away, his legs pressing up against Spain's. "Uh...What exactly do you plan on doing with her, Mathieu?"

"Things that should not be said in good company."

Silence descended on the car, the shock at hearing Canada say such a thing. But then Antonio laughed and reached around France to pat Canada on the back. "I could teach you a few things, if you want~"

Nation personality switches. Teach?

He turned and sprang on the Spanish man, grabbing at Toni's shirt collar and positively glaring at him. "You will teach Mathieu no such things!"

"But why not~? He seems like he wants to know," Spain said.

Before Francis could spout off at Antonio about how dangerous the personality switches were, how none of them – no _sane_ nation at least – liked it when it happened. The idea that Spain could control it? It was something he did not want to delve into. Something that kind of set him on edge, but also something he was accustomed to – if wary of. But the very idea of Spain teaching his former colony how to do that -

"N-no...I need to do this peacefully..." Even Canada in his current state knew the random personality switch wasn't a good thing. Being angry about a cheating lover. Fine. Normal. Wishing to cause death and destruction in one moment and then not knowing where the idea even came from? That was not normal.

That was fucking frightening.

"Peace is good," France said with a nod, dropping his hold on Toni. "Go with peace."

Turning back to Canada, he almost yelped at the fire in the usually peaceful nation's gaze. This was the nation who had declared independence _peacefully_, who didn't have to start a bloody revolution in order to break away to be on his own. Why was he suddenly so bloodthirsty? In such random spurts?

"But no wars would start if I wiped her stupid face off the map."

_Oh, Canada, I worry for you. I worry for you...and for what you're going to do...whatever you're going to do..._

_Oh, Prussia, I swear I will make you accept responsibility for this. _

_No one really remembers what Canada was like in the wars he's been involved in – hell, his personality switches probably made it so he doesn't remember much either, if it's anything like Arthur's versions of his own personality; that idiot hardly remembers what he was like during his British Empire days. _

_And my own scattered memories of the Revolution...and Napoleon after that..._

_Why have you caused so much trauma on my former colony? He's not just mad at you – he's growing unstable. From the New World Order, the one-world-governemnt movement...to this...it's no wonder..._

_Oh, the both of you are going to make this reunion difficult..._

_...so, so difficult._

~!~

_A/N: Weee! Headcanons all over the place? You likey? :D I probably should not have written this chapter all in one go, but I think that medicine hit me funky..._

_-#1: Nation Personality Switches: it's like multiple personality disorder but for nations – yay~! Trauma has a way of bringing this out in the nations. It doesn't necessarily mean that every war, or every bad situation brings it out, but as far as we can tell the BIG ONES make our nations act a little crazy and not-so-like-themselves. We saw a taste of this in One Month when Germany killed the human in order to secure Italy's life, and Italy was worried about his old monster surfacing. Well, Francis gives you nice information about their little problem all the way through this chapter. I tried to stick with examples about people he would personally know: the British Empire – we see, as do others, that Arthur during British Empire days was a lot different and harsher than the Arthur we know now; he's still in there, of course, but there's little personality differences involved between the two of them. (It's why I go UKUS when it's Pirate!Iggy or BritishEmpire!Iggy but definitely USUK otherwise, though they're my OTP and I love them anyway, anyhow to be honest). Francis also mentions Russia, but his personalty switches are kind of focking obvious. He also mentions that they don't really know how Canada was like in the world wars he fought for, because the anime shows Canada as invisible and no one really remembering his presence or existence or what he really did – because, sadly, a lot of the world tends to forget Canada. Long way of saying: I don't really go for snapped!characters – or perhaps this is just my version of it. Ah, well. _

_-Spain and his "I'm just upset they wouldn't let me bring my axe." I, quite literally, laughed when my sister sent that message. I think Spain loves his axe. Ax? Axe? I don't know. They both look wrong and right at different angles. Anyway. _

_-Headcanon #2: I don't think I really came out and said this in this chapter, but the BTT are totally fuck buddies. Friends with benefits kind of thing. _

_-I looked up the drive from Berlin to Budapest. I got eight hours. I don't know. I have **no **__perception of distances at all, but that's the result I came up with so ~ anyone in that area make that drive? Is that close?_

_-Headcanon #3: The flute is A BIG DEAL. I mention this every time, don't I? Ah well, I'm in a good mood. AND A TOTAL MUSIC GEEK, CAN'T YOU TELL? (Oh sheesh, this medicine, I swear)_

_-Headcanon #4: Francis and Joan of Arc (or Jean d'Arc...I think...ugh..French confuses me; Spanish I understand, JAPANESE I understand, French? Hah!)... anyway, if I was going to have anybody be a 'true love' pairing for France, it would have to be her. This comes up later (a lot later) but I may feel fit to poke a reminder every so often...if I can get France's point of view. Really, I gave him a whole chapter because he doesn't get much of a spotlight. And I've really come to love him. (And even though my OTP is USUK, I have been intrigued with certain FrUk ideas)_

_-You might have the question: "Where are Artie and Alfie? Weren't they going to come along with Canada?" Uhm, well, Canada kind of convinced them to let him do this alone, didn't he? And Arthur really doesn't want to deal with it – or doesn't want trigger-happy America in the room when everything could explode. So, yeah, they stayed home :) _

_~~Thanks to all reviews/alerts/favorites/etc~I LOVE YOU SO MUCH~AND I SERIOUSLY WROTE THIS CHAPTER IN ONE SITTING AHAHAHA 2 hours guys. I WROTE 4.5k words in TWO HOURS – AND THEN EDITED – SHEESH I'M FAST – and way too addicted to capslock right now~Sorry about that~~_

_~Reda_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author Notes****: **This chapter. So much pain to write this chapter. In a role-play, sometimes you just say screw it and let things happen because you're tired of waiting. When you actually get around to writing it out, it's a different matter because some things take_ time_. And it's so _hard_ to show emotions when everything is a jumbled mess.

-Enjoy? This chapter is, well, rough.

-Also, I'm impatient and went ahead and updated :)

**Warning****:** NSFW

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 8

~!~

His head hurt. His brain was confused and tumbling over itself, or at least it felt like that. It felt like he had been manipulated or hypnotized or twisted around until he no longer knew which way was up or down. He only knew something was a fact if she could confirm it. It hadn't even been that long with her. Just a couple of days at most.

But she had been on him like a ravenous beast, hungry for more, starving to take what little he had. She would bring him to the edge and then walk away. So much it hurt. Some aspects of his time with her reminded him of Russia, and when he was lucid he would think about getting away.

Why? He would ask himself. Why was he staying here? Why was he not leaving this environment?

Because every hour of every day was like another game of servant and master. His brain was trapped in that way of thinking, twisted to obey. Sex was the reward, and he was addicted. So addicted.

To the touches. The caresses. Even beyond that. The commands and slaps. The punishments and rewards. It was life. It was everything. His world existed here and now and everything else was a haze of disjointed memory.

~!~

Roderich stood at the front door to Hungary's house. Even if they were divorced now. Even if they had been separated for years. Even if the past great empire was now forgotten and a mere shadow of what he once was...he still visited her on occasion. And she visited him.

After all, he could not sit at home and relax on the piano, get lost in music, forever. Sometimes he had to leave the house. Most of the time it was to do mindless errands. Or to fulfill his job at a meeting. Or to request something from Germany, since Ludwig was almost always willing to help a fellow German state. (Of course, visits to Germany were rare seeing as a certain Prussian albino would undoubtedly be hanging around, a long lost not-so-friendly rivalry that was all but awkward now).

Granted, it had been a long time since he'd had an abrupt visit from the loud mouthed albino. And now he knew why. Prussia had found a new home in Canada. It was the new gossip between the nations. Oh, sure, their leaders didn't much care for such things, but as nations who had grown up around each other, who had been at each other's throats, who had helped each other through economic downfalls and more...they were always willing to listen to gossip. Even for nations, the news of who was sleeping with who brought about excitement.

Except, things had changed. Just as he learned the news, it seemed that Prussia had dumped the Canadian to run off with Hungary. Again.

Except, things were different this time. Different because Elizaveta was different. Sick.

Except none of the other nations noticed. They didn't know her as well. Prussia and Austria knew Hungary well enough to notice, but she was currently toying with Prussia, toying beyond the normal fun and games. Beyond what they had all experienced before.

Yes, Prussia was an imbecile. And, yes, he had chased after Hungary for years. Been to her place and pushed away so many countless of times. It was why Austria had given up after meeting him at the airport. He'd given up; he'd let the idiotic albino ruin his life.

Except now, he had new information.

Information that put light on the situation. Made it more than what it appeared. Something _else_ was at play here. _Prussia_ was a micronation, an honest-to-gods micronation because of Canada, and Hungary had always wanted a little nation to call her own. It didn't matter if it was Prussia; perhaps she was trying for something else, but the lust was affecting her. The lust for more land – as all nations craved more territory – was reaching into the depths of her sickness and turning her into...into...

Well, Russia had been a prime example of what happened to them. Hell bent on creating a family. Wanting nations to join a family of his own. Not for the power, but because he was lonely, and because the sickness was too deep. Some called it insanity.

Roderich knew better.

Before him, the door opened, and he realized he had indeed knocked once or twice. "Ah, Eliza, excuse me for the unexpected visit -"

His words left him. Cut off completely at the sight before him. Prussia, not Hungary, stood at the door. The eyes were the first thing he noticed. Empty. Red eyes that had grown dark and dim, like he was forever trapped in a daze. Not at all the bouncy, gleaming gaze it was meant to be, not even close. Beyond that, were the multiple cuts, the slices across his face, treated and scaring but still glaring out from the pale skin. The white buttoned down shirt, opened to reveal even worse across his chest. Roderich knew that Gilbert enjoyed as much pain as he did pleasure, but this was...

"Gilbert," he whispered, finding his tongue slow to move, his mouth dry. "What on earth..."

Prussia's eyes focused for a second, his eyebrows furrowing as if he were trying to come back, trying to register that Austria was actually there, trying to understand what he was saying. But he didn't answer. The normal insults Roderich had come to expect remained absent, and it gave him a chance to notice something else. Something he had intentionally blocked out on his first look of Prussia's state.

The chains. The cuffs around his ankles and wrists, connected by silver chainlinks. Even a collar, as if he were a dog, a chainlink leash breaking off at several points to connect to the other cuffs. Sex toys, yes, so they were made so as not to cause bruising, soft insides to keep the cuffs from breaking skin. But Prussia had obviously been wearing them for too long to be healthy; there was dried blood caked around them.

And the man didn't even seem to care!

"Prussia, what has she done -"

"Oh, Roderich, I wasn't expecting you!" Elizaveta's voice cut him off as she strode into view. Without sparing a second glance for Austria, she wrapped her arms around Prussia's neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him. Kissed him long enough for Austria to start feeling awkward, and then she abruptly pulled back and slapped Gilbert, causing the albino to stumble back and lower his eyes. "Still not good enough, Gilly. Why don't you go lay on your couch and wait for me, hm? I'll think of a suitable _reward_ while you wait."

Instead of smart ass come back he was expecting, Prussia merely lowered his gaze and started to shuffle away. "Yes, Elizaveta. Sorry, Elizaveta."

Austria shivered as if someone had just thrown ice down his back. It wasn't right. Not that he particularly _liked_ the uncouth obnoxious albino, but this wasn't what he'd had in mind when he thought of taming the man. This bleak, dejected, servant-like...it was like a game gone on too long, too far.

He turned his gaze to Eliza and wasn't in the least bit surprised to realize he was glaring at her. "_What_ are you _doing_, Eliza?"

Her answer was a sigh, stepping forward to grab his arm. Stiffening up, he unwilling allowed her to move them further outside, the door closing behind them as she walked him down the porch steps. "Oh, Roderich, you shouldn't drop in without calling first. If I had known you were coming, I would have better prepared."

"You mean hidden him away like you weren't treating him like some sort of sex slave?" There was more fire in his voice than he had expected.

The fact that she was so nonchalant about it. The fact that she laughed... "Oh, no, that's not it at _all_, dear Roderich." She dropped his arm and put her hands behind her back, but she continued to lead, continued to walk down the pathway toward her car. "He's a micronation now and he's as of yet unclaimed. Still free. You have your protection on your own micronation, don't you? Well, Canada didn't exactly think through everything when he purposefully raised Gilbert's status, did he?"

She giggled. _Giggled_. Like it was some game. She was so different. His information was correct. Something else was going on here. The Elizaveta he knew would have never gone this far. Never.

"He shouldn't need _protection_, Eliza."

"Ah, but he does. He has been hiding behind Germany for too long, though more from Russia than me." She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you care, my dear beloved Roderich? Don't you despise his barbaric ways?"

Ah. So there it was. The crux of the matter. Why _did_ he care? He huffed. "I believe I am more worried about you, Eliza, then him."

"Me?" Her spin was abrupt. Her eyes wide.

So, he _had_ surprised her. Walking closer, he took her hand in his and gripped it firmly. "Yes. You have not...been yourself lately."

For a moment, he waited. The words affected her. He could tell. Something glimmered in her eyes as they stared back at him. Something he could recall, something he knew was the real Hungary, but she wasn't trapped in her own mind. She was sick with something else. Falling apart from the inside out and bringing down whoever else she could find to go with her.

Then, the moment was gone, and she pulled her hand away. "That's ridiculous, Roderich. I am quite normal I assure you." She reached her car and opened the door. "Would you like to run a few errands with me?"

He blinked. "What about Gil-?"

"Oh don't worry about _him_. Since when have you _ever_ worried about him?" She held out a hand. "Come with me, Roderich. I'm giving you a chance to convince me of my own insanity. Won't you take it?"

Again, he blinked. He hadn't said a word about insanity, yet she... Glancing over his shoulder, he noted the house, and he thought about the person inside, left alone. Maybe if he distracted Eliza long enough, Prussia could wake up from the strange daze he seemed trapped in. Besides, he had no ride home; he didn't drive; he had others drive _him_ places. And it was a such a long walk back to town to find someone...

With a nod, he took the offer and walked forward, taking note of Eliza's hand but otherwise ignoring her. "Eliza, you really must see the problem here..."

Although he did not feel as if he could be much use in the love dealings of the albino, he could at least offer a distraction so the man could have a chance to return to himself.

~!~

"So, did anyone actually think this through?" France asked as the group got out of the car.

Canada glanced at him but didn't comment. Of course he'd thought this through. He knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to walk up those steps, pull Prussia out here, and...and then what? As the others closed their car doors, Matthew found his feet frozen halfway up the porch steps.

Hungary wasn't here. Her car was missing. Did that mean Prussia was here alone? Or had they gone out?

The thought made his blood boil and forced his steps forward again. Raising a hand, he slammed it against the door, knocking in his anger. The others were standing behind him in the grass, waiting, watching; he could feel their eyes. It didn't matter. This was what he wanted – to confront Prussia and Hungary alone. It was why he had told America and England not to follow him, not to tag along; he wanted to do this alone.

When there was no answer to his knocking, Canada went to the window and immediately felt his breath catch. He could see Prussia lying on the couch; after everything his mind and heart had been through, actually seeing him again was enough to choke him up. But there was more of a surprise waiting for him. Gilbert was dressed in a white button-down shirt and navy pants instead of the suit he had left in or the t-shirts and jeans he always wore, but the _worst_ part was...the worst part...were the cuffs, the chains, the collar...

"_Dieu._.." he muttered, recalling his earlier words in the car, recalling his statement that unless Prussia was in chains there was no excuse.

Well, was there one now?

_Yes, there is, just look at him._

_No, there isn't. He still cheated on you. He walked out. He went to someone else. He left you._

_But look at him!_

Shaking the thoughts away, Canada stepped away from the window. Prussia was asleep. Slamming on the door hadn't helped wake him up, so slamming on the window pane wasn't going to help much either. Instead, he had another idea. Hungary wasn't here but Prussia was alone. He had the albino alone, and he _needed_ to talk to him. What exactly he was going to say, well, that was still working through his mind, but for now he had to wake the idiot up.

So, he grabbed a rock from the yard and proceeded to walk back up the porch steps...and throw it. The rock successfully crashed into the window and landed on the floor on the other side. It also successfully woke the idiot albino.

Sitting up slowly, Prussia stared over at the window for a moment, almost as if his eyes were adjusting to being awake, until they went wide and Canada could finally see the red staring at him from across the room. "Birdie!"

The Prussian got up from the couch but he didn't come to the window. Instead, he moved to the door, opening it slowly without a word. Which was strange. If Canada hadn't been thinking of more important matters, he might have noticed the odd silence permeating from the usually loud albino. Instead, he went through the door and entered Hungary's domain, but his eyes stayed on the Prussian.

In fact, he actually moved forward and wrapped the albino in a hug, hearing the slight hissing intake of air from Prussia, noting the fact that Prussia didn't move to hug him back. Which was for the best, honestly. Canada pulled back quick enough, too busy asking himself why he had just done that.

_Why did you just hug him? What's the point of all this anger if you're going to forgive him? Don't you remember what he did? You can't let someone do that to you!_

Gritting his teeth, he let the anger flash again. He even raised his hand, prepared to slap the asshole who had left him for another. Prepared to vent and let it out. Prepared to turn his emotions to anger instead of tears.

...but then he saw...

_Look at him!_

...he saw the cuts on that pale face. He saw the red eyes staring back at him, as if waiting. Quiet. Expecting. Tense but frozen. Hungary was treating him like shit. Hungary was...what _was_ she doing with him? Better yet, Hungary did this and Gilbert stayed...

"Why?" Finally, the word came out, the question, and it was filled with more than just the one situation. A single, multi-layered word.

Prussia's eyes looked away, as if unable to meet his gaze. "I...can't..." He started to respond, started to explain – or try to explain – but then his eyes must have seen the rest of the group that had joined Canada on this journey because his eyebrows furrowed and he changed gears immediately. "Why is everyone here?"

"Ve~" Italy was quick on the response, obviously still some distance, probably standing on the green grass. "We all care about you~"

Germany's voice came next, choked up but hard, pressing through with his stern, firm stance. "You have to break that promise,_ bruder_."

And then France: "Yeah, promises are cheap anyway."

Followed by Spain: "Some promises aren't real anyway. She tricked you into that, didn't she?"

And Italy again: "Si! It's like when two people get married, but then the husband abuses the wife so that way a divorce is okay because it wasn't a real marriage in the first place!"

Fire came back into Prussia's eyes and he lifted his hand, his teeth grinding against each other. "Hey! I'm not the wife!"

Though his voice was hoarse, like he hadn't had a real drink of water or anything to soothe his throat in so long. Gilbert winced, and Canada did too, for many reasons. He'd been happy to hear Prussia being himself, and yet there was so much pain there. So much pain...and...and...

_No, I won't – I can't – care again. He cheated. He left me! _

_But...he's..._

Standing awkwardly in front of him, unable to think of something to say, not sure he was as strong in his decision as he had thought, being faced with something he hadn't expected...and Prussia lowered his head and started mumbling. "Old Fritz told me to never break my word. I haven't done it yet, and I'm not going to start now. I always say what I mean. I -"

"Then what about me?"

It took a second or two for Canada to realize he had been the one to interrupt, he had been the one to shout. When he saw Gilbert staring at him, the white hair dripping with sweat, the red eyes dulled from their usual brightness, Matthew had to suck in his will and clench his hands. This was what he had come for. This was what he needed to do. Prussia's hypocrisy pissed him off and the albino didn't even seem to realize he was being hypocritical.

"What about me?" He said, softer. "All that time, and you still ran after her? After everything we've been through, she still has your heart? After everything you told me, you still come here? What is it, Gil? Do you _really_ say what you mean? Because from where I stand – you don't."

The last little bit was choked. Tears threatened at his eyes but he had to hold them back. God, but he wanted to let the emotion take over. He wanted to drown himself in it. He wanted to -

Prussia's reaction was about what he had expected. Like a deer caught in the headlights. Eyes wide, hands moving up and trembling a little like he'd been hit hard and was trying to recover. "I – I don't – don't know why – I shouldn't have – Birdie – I didn't mean to – I made a mistake and now I can't – I can't..."

Of course before Canada could turn around, could declare them over, France stepped onto the scene. Francis put a quick hand on Matthew's shoulder. Squeezed softly, as if to tell him to wait a moment. Then, the French man gave a long exasperated sigh and moved closer to Prussia. "Can you two hurry up and make up so we can figure out how to fix this?" Canada watched as the older nation reached up and started to poke Gilbert's cheek. "Since _your_ stubborn ass destroys the only solution we have."

Prussia scoffed and then raised a hand in an effort to shake France's annoying poking off of him, but in the process he grimaced as if the movement hurt. Canada watched as Gilbert put a hand to his neck, reached underneath the collar there with a single finger and groaned, scratching at the skin, pulling his hand back to reveal little spots of blood. It must have been the blood that made him snap.

"Gil...she..." He cut off, as his mind began to imagine what had been really going on here; whether or not the albino was to blame for being in this predicament it didn't change the fact that Hungary had taken _his_ micronation and caused him pain – how _dare_ someone else _hurt_ his territory. The thought itself didn't make much sense, but the primal meaning was there, the primal anger. "I am going to _kill_ her."

Whispered so that it was nearly impossible to hear, Prussia responded to the statement. "Whoa, Birdie, never thought...never thought you would say something like that."

Followed by France sending a glare to the albino. "I blame you for that."

Shaking his head, Matthew put a hand to his own forehead, still not knowing why that kept happening. The strange primal, instinctive feelings. Is this what happened when you had a colony? Is this why England had been so over protective of his colonies? Is this why France had been so worked up when Canada changed to being British territory? Were the micronations like little colonies that weren't recognized by the rest of the world? Like little slots of land, of territory, of property? Is that why he was still so insistent on having Prussia back under his care even after everything the man had put him through? If he were to drop the micronation status...

While he fought himself on the inside, Spain pranced into the entryway, walking over to Prussia's other side, forming a trio of friends facing Canada. "I have an idea! You two should just start kissing~! Kissing always makes everything better!" Antonio was grinning, his face beaming as he looked between Prussia and Canada as if imagining the scene.

_A kiss...yes...maybe..._

_What? No, don't give in! Don't give in!_

Waiting to see Gilbert's reaction to the idea, Canada stared at the albino, seeing the light blush, the grimace, and the shutting of his eyes as he lowered his head. "I – really would rather not."

He missed France's widening eyes, but he heard him loud and clear. "Wh-What? Super man-whore always-loves-kissing Prussia doesn't want to kiss?" He watched as Francis put a hand to Prussia's forehead as if checking for a fever. "Are you okay?"

_No, he's fine. He just doesn't want to kiss me. Because he really...he really doesn't love me..._

_Okay, he's a liar and a cheat. We're done. You're done._

"I get it," Matthew mumbled, spinning on his heel and walking out the door.

It was hard to call the anger up again, because he had been so close to cutting it off. He wasn't so much as angry anymore as numb. Ignoring the confused cries of France, Spain, Italy, and Germany, he walked away. He put one foot in front of the other, made it to Ludwig's car, pulled the bag of Prussia's things out, and then made his way back. So much for having a micronation. So much for caring. There was nothing now. No anger. No life. No cares.

"Please, take your stuff back." Dropping the bag, he caught the glint of silver as the flute was revealed, popping out of the top, but he kept his eyes trained on Prussia. The lying, cheating, deceitful, son of a -

And then Prussia did something that surprised him. That shocked him to his core. That hit him in the center of his heart and brought everything rushing back. All the feelings. All the care. All the emotion. It was opened and allowed to exist again.

Because when Gilbert Beilschmidt fell to his knees and cried in front of someone, it was honest and painful and downright _wrong_. So wrong, in fact, that he wanted nothing more than to fix it. To fix him.

The hurt of being abandoned was swept away at seeing the mighty Prussia shed tears. Tears that showed no sign of stopping. Shaking, trembling, hands clinging to his own silvery hair as he uselessly fought it back. Repetitive muttered apologizes like a broken record. It was just..._wrong_...like something that was not meant to happen in this world.

"What...the hell? It's like he's..." As if from a hazy distance, Canada could hear France's own curse and gasp of breath. "...he's broken. Russia couldn't do it in forty years but Hungary did it in a few days. God."

Hearing a noise from outside but not registering it, Matthew chose instead to ignore the outside world and kneel down in front of Prussia. He reached out, noting that his own hand was shaking, and set his fingers against the man's shoulder. Touched him again. Gently. Caressing. As if he needed it as much as Prussia.

He cried no tears of his own, but he could feel his heart beating, knowing – finally knowing – that Prussia _had _meant all he'd said to him. Even if he meant it when he talked of Hungary, too, it was only because he was confused. They had all tried to explain it; they had all tried to tell him how Gilbert didn't understand what he was doing, not really, but now, seeing him reduced to a sobbing mess just at the prospect of losing Matthew forever, at the prospect of someone rejecting the greatest gift he'd ever given...

"Gil," he whispered. "Please don't cry anymore. I don't like seeing you cry."

"I'm sorry – I can't – I couldn't – she -" The albino kept mumbling between his sobs. _Sobs_. An honest-to-gods mess. Prussia _never_ did that. After all of his talk about how tears were weak and how he never liked to see other people cry, here he was doing exactly what he hated so much. It was perhaps the most honest thing he'd ever done.

And it hurt Canada to see it. Because he knew, he _knew_ it was his fault. His fault. He'd made the awesome Prussia cry.

_Yeah, well, doesn't he deserve it? After what he did -_

_Shut up – it doesn't matter anymore – I'm going to make him feel better – and then I'm going to beat the shit out of Hungary for making him weak enough to be reduced to this in the first place._

~!~

_A/N: As I have said before, Hungary is purposefully out-of-character. She's so far from the way she's normally portrayed, I feared people would hate me for it. Why is she like this? Why, why, why? There's actually a reason but I can't give it away so you'll just have to trust me on this. Seriously, there's a real honest-to-gods reason. Austria gets close to it. _

_-This scene is of my creation, the scene with Austria, the thoughts of Prussia in the beginning, and the scene where Canada + the group arrive has been edited. Why? Austria's scene was needed to lay ground for later projects; Prussia's thoughts because by god I'm desperate to show there's something more at play here than a little cheating game; and the scene with Canada edited and re-worked because...well...it had to be done. (Kairi – Because I BS'd my way through it in the RP because I wanted the two to just get the fudge back together gosh darn it! Thank you Aneki for fixing it~ It's so beautiful~)_

_-It took so long to write the scene from Canada's point of view. So long. I had to keep stopping and re-thinking and editing. Not too sure it came out exactly what I was hoping for, but eh, it'll work._

_~~Thanks for all reviews/alerts/favorites and I hope you're still with me after my over-a-month time away; school really gets rough sometimes~~_

_-Reda_


	9. Chapter 9

**Author Notes****: **And now we're back to actually following the role-play. For the most part. I mean, there's two scenes going on at the same time here, which is actually done at the same time in the role-play, but better separated in story format. But, for the most part, everything's back.

-Again, I'm impatient; I sent off a section of this to my sister, added a bunch of stuff, and lol, here ya go!

~!~

One Season

Part 1: Love Is Complicated

Chapter 9

~!~

When Gilbert Beilschmidt began to cry, Francis found himself staring in shock. After his initial observation of the beloved albino being broken by Hungary, he stepped back and stared. Spain was right there with him. Neither of them knew what to do, but, thankfully, neither one of them had to even lift a finger.

Matthew had gotten to his knees and was talking to Gil, touching him again, whispering to him, and sounding closer to the caring heart France was accustomed to hearing from his former colony. While the shock washed over him, France eventually let a small smile grace his lips. Finally. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe this would be the turning point to get these two back together. Maybe it would be just what Prussia needed. After all, everyone needed a good cry every once in a while. Tears healed the soul. And comfort...

Well, he would leave them alone. Step back. Let them work it out.

Besides, a car door slamming and a warning shout from Germany brought France's attention elsewhere. There was still one more problem to be solved. An extra puzzle piece where it didn't belong, masquerading and taking the slot of the piece that really did belong. Dragging Antonio with him, Francis walked out to the front yard, stepping down into the grass beside Italy and Germany.

As Hungary made her way to the group of them, France muttered under his breath. "So, do we have a plan? Start a war? After seeing what she did, I think it's worth it."

Not that his boss would approve of a war, of course, but at least the other nations would understand. It took a lot to push France to war nowadays. The fact that he was even willing to discuss the matter said a lot. Originally, he had fought the idea. When Canada had mentioned nuking every inch of Hungary's place – even if it was in a personality switch moment – France had jumped and promised himself to keep Matthew from acting so rashly.

Now...

Now things had changed.

When Hungary walked up to them calmly, smiling, and brushing at the folds in her dress, France had to fight the urge to growl. "Welcome, boys. Is something the matter?"

Antonio lifted his arm, then lowered it, his fist obviously clenched. The Spainard took it personally when his friends were hurt. Well, France did, too, but Antonio was a bit more on the uncontrollable side when he decided to unleash revenge. _When_ he decided to let that little monster side of his...well... "You better be happy the airport wouldn't let me bring my ax."

"Yes, well," Elizaveta said. "Would you like to come inside? Perhaps we can discuss this civilly?"

A little bubble of silence popped up, each of them confused by her question. By how calmly she was treating this situation. Could she not tell that they were all holding back? All so obviously angry, testosterone pressing against their moods. It took all of France's control not to jump forward and strangle her, and every thought he had of Prussia's current state made him want to lash out more. Prussia was a friend. An idiot friend who loved to get himself into trouble, but still...

"Hungary," Italy said, popping the silence bubble, "why are you trying so hard to hurt him?"

"Hurt him?" Hungary tilted her head. "Oh Italy, I'm not trying to hurt him."

_Yes, you are. It's obvious. You're destroying everything that makes Prussia the man we know. You're turning his newest gift against him, you're working so hard to destroy the loving relationship he managed to find and cultivate, and you've broken his pride. Not trying to hurt him? All you've done is caused him pain!_

A growl was the response from Germany, and Spain's words echoed what France was thinking. "Don't play stupid. We all know what you're doing. And we're going to stop you, regardless of the means."

To his surprise, Hungary didn't seem the least bit worried, raising an eyebrow at the Spanish man's threat. "Oh? And what 'means' do you intend to use to stop me? Right now, all I see is a terrible distraction."

"Whatever it takes," Germany scowled, "to get you to leave mein bruder alone."

"You'd be surprised what a Spanish man can do," Antonio said, adding, "Even without his ax."

Before France could add his own threat – after all, why not join in – the little Italian stepped out from Germany's shadow. "Hungary, stop it. Please."

Oh, yes, he'd forgotten. Italy had a good relationship with Hungary. Or a good past relationship. They'd both been in Austria's house when the haughty aristocrat had actually ruled a portion of the world. Part of the great Austrian Empire. Was Italy intentionally trying to use his friendship, his connection, to Hungary, or was it just like Feliciano to be the one to shout at everyone to stop fighting?

"Hungary," Italy continued, stepping right up to the female nation and lowering his voice. "Please. Prussia has finally found someone who really loves and understands him. Why are you constantly trying to tear them apart?"

It was a beautiful sentiment. Innocent and naïve but beautiful.

Of course, Elizaveta wasn't going to understand. She never had. "He's mine," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "That's why!"

As Italy flinched back, Antonio growled. "He is not _yours_. You just tricked him into a stupid promise!"

"Ah, yes, his promise." At the smirk that crossed Hungary's face, France felt his stomach grow nauseous. Such a look should never form on such a beauty. "That's the real kicker, isn't it? I bet he never promised anything to Canada; what does _that_ say about his feelings? I didn't even have to work hard to get that out of him, you know."

Feeling his hands shaking by his side, Francis lowered his eyebrows and stepped forward himself. They were all close to her now, surrounding her, and she didn't seem fazed by it at all. "You just want someone to control, don't you?"

Of course, Germany had to go and interrupt him. "You know nothing of what they went through, do you?"

And of course, Germany had to be the one to grab her attention. France was all too easily ignored these days. "What are you talking about?"

Then again, of all of them, Ludwig was probably the most frightening. The man was buffer, larger, and downright scarier than the rest of them. His anger was not to be trifled with, so it was no wonder Hungary was paying the most attention to the German nation. Though admitting such a thing _did_ make France feel a little useless and upset at himself. Once upon a time, he had been the one everyone was scared of, the world trying to keep a balance of powers in the European continent in an effort to keep him at bay. Now...well...things had changed.

"Some World Government supporters had them captured," Ludwig growled.

And surprisingly enough, Hungary's eyes widened, her face growing pale. Immediately, Francis narrowed his eyes. What did Hungary know about the World Government movement? What did she know about the latest human organization reaching beyond the borders, the effort to capture nations, to destroy nations? Russia was involved on some level, but what about Hungary? Did she play some part, too? Was that her aim here? Was that why Prussia becoming a micronation...?

No, that didn't make sense. A micronation shouldn't matter. They weren't even truly recognized. Just an enigma in their existence. A little thread that kept them alive against the rules.

Still, why did Hungary seem so worried? "Captured? World Government?" The surprise dropped and her eyes narrowed. "Is Russia involved?"

"Yes," France said before he could hold his tongue. "Yes, he is."

Spain nodded. "Si, and what you're doing is not helping Matthew get over it."

For some reason, the information made Hungary step back. It made her bring a hand to her chin, tapping it, looking thoughtful, her gaze no longer worried about their presence on any level. Her reaction was enough to put the group of them on hold from their current mission. Distracting her seemed to be all they were good for at the moment anyway. If she was so confident, if she _did _know something...

"So that's why he..." Elizaveta mumbled, then she lowered her arm and glared toward her own house. "I need to speak with Matthew."

Francis blink. How on earth would she know that Canada was here? Or was she just assuming? Then again, why else would the four of them be standing outside her house, if not to distract her from the important moment between Prussia and Canada? She must be assuming that Matthew would come here to save Prussia, or, in her mind, to take Gil away again. But why...?

Spain beat France to the question, stepping up to stand directly in front of the woman, as if trying to block her view of her own house. "And why, exactly, is that?"

Yes, why would Hungary need to speak with Matthew? Why would she say such a thing only after the topic of the world government had been mentioned? What did she _know_?

"To discuss an arrangement," Hungary said, rolling her eyes. "I don't believe the rest of you should have any say in this matter."

Feliciano huffed. "Hungary, honestly, I think Prussia is the only one to have a say. It's his life. He should choose who to spend it with."

Hungary outright laughed. "Prussia? Able to decide for himself? All that man knows is war and sex; everything else confuses him. As should be obvious now."

Crossing his arms, France found himself mumbling an agreement. "You know, I can agree with that. Love does confuse the fuck out of him."

_It's why he's in this mess in the first place. It's why we're here. It's why all of this has happened. Because Prussia doesn't understand his own feelings. His heart acts funny and he turns into a different person just in an effort to figure out why and how to make it stop._

~!~

Matthew Williams touched the cloth fabric, his fingers finding holes in the back of the shirt, finding skin, feeling what he could assume was dried blood and scabs. Raised skin. He knew about the scars. He had lain with this man more than once; he had felt the scars before, but feeling them now, alongside what would undoubtedly be several additions to the already scarred pale skin...it made his heart ache.

He squeezed the albino's shoulder, gently, and he reached out to touched the other shoulder, too, hesitantly, not knowing what else to do. For whatever reason, his mind was made up now. Forgive Prussia. Kill Hungary. Well, seriously hurt her. Killing was a bit rash, and the thought may have been a little out of place, but his heart was hurting now. Not because someone had crushed it, but because the one he still loved was hurting. Some might wonder why he had forgiven the cheater. Why was he willing to let this man crush his heart? Why forgive someone who could run off to another so easily?

The answer was simple and complicated at the same time. He had thought long and hard on it. He had learned what he could about this man who he had given so much to. He had been sure there was no excuse for cheating. He had planned merely to ask why, be disappointed in the answer, and leave, cutting off the ties, resolving never to let such a thing happen again.

But love made him weak. Love made everyone weak. Nations and humans alike. History had written it down countless times. Humans were obsessed with the emotion. Why? Why did _love_ let him forgive the one who had caused such pain? Because love was an emotion and emotions were human, unpredictable, and impossible to control.

When Gilbert cried, Matthew's heart hurt just as much as when Gil had kissed Elizaveta in the hallway. If not more so. He really couldn't stand to see the mighty Prussian cry. Now he could understand why the man had been so insistent on getting him to stop when _he _cried. It hurt.

So, Canada tried to make him stop. Words wouldn't come. Touches didn't seem to be working, either. He wanted to hug him. He wanted to let Gil sit here and cry it all out, but at the same time he didn't want to see it anymore. He didn't want to hear it anymore. He wanted to hear the stupid obnoxiously loud laugh, see the red eyes gleam in the sunlight. He wanted them to be happy again, for everything to go back to the way it had been, to get caught up in the albino's silly antics like water fights in the kitchen.

"Gil," he murmured, pulling back, glancing around the room, finding the silver glint from the flute, and then knowing exactly what to do. Reaching out, he picked the flute out from the bag, handling it gently as he held it out for the Prussian. "Play for me?"

As if the question and the gesture had been exactly what Gilbert needed, the man lowered his hands, pale fingers finally letting go of silver strands of hair. The sobbing stopped. Tears still tracked down his face, but silently for the most part, as he caught his breath, followed the flute to the arm that held it and finally connected eyes with the blue of Canada. Matthew met the red eyes and smiled gently, pushing the flute into Gil's hands.

"Please?" Matthew whispered, choking back the sudden urge to burst into tears himself. He had to be strong. Had to be the strong one now. Gil needed someone strong to pull him back, someone that loved him enough to pull him back from the darkness Hungary had thrown him into.

Prussia took the silver instrument into his hands, ever so slowly, gave a weak excuse for a smile, and then changed positions. The man got off of his knees and instead sat with his legs crossed. The red eyes seemed to be locked onto Canada, locked but not gleaming. They weren't dancing, but they weren't as empty either. Like he wasn't fully there but was instead thinking of something. Then, the pale hands moved, brought the flute to his lips, and music began to fill the room.

Soft, sad, longing, mournful.

Matthew closed his eyes and let the sounds speak to him, letting himself remember the first time Prussia had played for him. Unbidden but appropriate, he also recalled the conversation in the car ride. Of France, Spain, Italy, and Germany saying how hard it was to make Prussia play, how the man rarely let anyone else hear him these days. Yet Matthew could do it so easily. Canada could get the awesome Prussian to play for him simply by asking for it.

Even now.

With his eyes closed, he let the music take him away from here. Back to the happy memories that felt like such a long time ago. Back to the moments when Prussia would play for him in the house. When they would sit on the bed in their night clothes and Gilbert would pull the flute out and play at a simple request for music. And Canada would curl up in Gil's lap and let the music take him away. Take him to dreams and fairytales and childhood memories...to being loved and being happy and finally feeling the emotions that his people experienced every day, feeling such emotions for himself and then waking up to a touch of fingers running through his hair...

With a blink, Canada opened his eyes and found that he had leaned forward, that he was currently resting his head in Prussia's lap just like old times. At some point he must have stretched out across the floor, completely lost in the music and the memories. But the music had stopped, and there were fingers – trembling fingers this time – running through his hair, careful not to tap or get caught in the special curl.

Startled, Matthew shot up, pulling away quickly, getting back to his knees, wondering what on earth had come over him, only to freeze his movements at the sound of Gilbert's hoarse, whispery, shaky voice. "I really _am _sorry, Birdie."

There were tears in those red eyes. _Again_. And the voice was shaking because he was about to cry. _Again_. Reacting quickly, Canada moved forward, and reached for Prussia. He set his hands on either side of that pale face and wiped at the wetness on those cheeks.

"It will be fine. We'll fix everything. Together. Somehow."

What had been intended to keep the albino from crying only seemed to make the waterworks flow faster. Prussia's arms fell as he began to cradle the flute like it was one of the few things that would never leave him. Except, Canada was here. And Canada had just said he would never... "_Gott_," Gil said through his trembling, "I don't deserve you."

Shaking his head, Matthew moved his hands again, this time stroking the silver hair, petting at the strands, small soothing gestures that he knew would make the albino sigh. "Don't say that. You're awesome, remember?"

To his dismay, Gilbert flinched at the very word. "Right. Awesome. This whole situation is completely unawesome."

Sighing sadly at the reaction to one of Prussia's favorite words, Canada moved away again, only to reach out and touch the chain around the man's neck. "How could you let her do this?" He whispered.

Which only served to make Gilbert grimace some more. "It's...I...you don't want to know."

"Why are you doing everything she says?"

Gil flinched back at the question, as if he knew he had no good answer. "I...I don't know. I can't think straight anymore. She...it's complicated. I just...I don't even want to...But I can't stop..."

_Like a tamed animal. Built in habits. Trained to follow her every whim. Papa was right. She did break him. _

Seeing as Gil had moved away from him, Canada had to pull in closer to touch the pale face again. To get those red eyes to open and look at him. "It's all right," he said, leaning in to kiss him gently on the top of his head. "I understand."

The words finally broke through, finally gave him a reaction he could be happy with. Prussia's trembling calmed. His body relaxed. He even smiled, though it was small and showed no teeth. "I love you...so much." He lowered his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Birdie. I didn't – she was so – but – I -"

"Shh," Canada whispered, pressing a finger to the man's lips. "I understand." Red eyes looked back up at him, as if not believing him. At least Prussia wasn't flinching away or scared of being touched anymore. "_Je'taime._" He almost laughed when Gilbert stared back at him, not understanding. Would the man never remember the simple French phrase? Still, Canada kept his mirth hidden and pulled Prussia closer, wrapped his arms around him, set the man's head on his shoulder, putting his mouth close to the albino's ear. "I love you, Gil."

Finally, Prussia relaxed completely, laying against him, reacting well to the embrace and the whispered words. Matthew started to pet the back of Gilbert's head, stroking the silver strands, and earning that light contented sigh. His heart still ached; he had a feeling it would be a while before Prussia was back to normal.

_Broken. Russia couldn't do it, but Hungary did...Don't worry, Gil. I'll fix it. I'll fix you. I'll take you back home and protect you and make sure this never happens again._

A sound from outside, steps on the porch, Hungary's voice, and Canada felt his arms wrap tighter at the flare of anger. First, before they could go home, he would have to take care of Elizaveta. "Hungary's still outside," he whispered, not intending to say it out loud and grimacing slightly when he did.

Because Prussia immediately tensed up and pulled away quickly, sitting up and wiping at the tear tracks on his face. "She's here?"

Canada gave a nod. "Oui, she is."

"Then I should..." Gilbert said, his mumbles disappearing in the air as he started to get to his feet.

Canada followed him. "Should what, Gil?"

To his dismay, Prussia turned around. "She said to wait on the couch – she'll be mad if I -"

Canada's hand shot out before he even processed the thought. Grabbing onto the albino's wrist and refusing to let go, he stood his ground. "No," he said, pulling Prussia back toward him, unintentionally making the man stumble in his steps as he was suddenly turned around. "No, Gil," he repeated, "You belong to me. Not her."

"H-Huh?" Gilbert said as he stared back at him.

"I don't believe that's been officially decided yet, Matthew." At the sound of Hungary's voice, and then seeing the red eyes grow wide in alarm, Canada spun around to glare at the bitch who had caused this mess. "But I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss it. Remember, though, _you_ were the one to make Gil a micronation. This is merely one of the consequences of such an action."

Dropping his grip on Prussia's hand, Matthew glared into the green eyes of the female nation. "That's a lie," he growled. "None of the other micronations have this happen."

"None of the others are quite old enough for anyone else to care," Hungary said. "There's history between Gil and I. Just as there is history between him and Russia. You cannot simply erase that history. By making him a micronation, you defy the rules, and you give him territory that makes us want to claim him."

"Us?"

She only smirked at him, and walked closer, placing a hand on his chest and leaning in, making it difficult for him to hold his clenched fists back from smacking her now. "Oh, Matthew, don't you understand the territorial urge you must be feeling now, too? Normally, a micronation proclaims itself, such as Sealand and the others. The world doesn't truly recognize them, but they insist and live because of stubborn humans. New Prussia, on the other hand, is different." She stepped back, then, her hands going behind her back as she looked over Canada's shoulder.

"How so?" Canada prompted, wanting to do what he could to pull her attention away from Prussia.

She simply shrugged. "Seems to be like you intentionally created the micronation, just for Gilbert, hm? Sure, the citizens had something to do with it, but you must have worked hard behind the scenes to make it happen. Most micronations, to the rest of the world, remain a part of the nation they split from, because those citizens were originally known as English or Austrian or Austrailian or American, heaven forbid."

"But...?"

"_But_, you didn't simply create a micronation. They're Canadian citizens, sure, but you named it after Gil's previous nation. New _Prussia_. So, it has a connection to anyone who might identify as Prussian." The green eyes narrowed. "And anyone who has a history with Prussia will feel the tug to claim that territory."

Feeling his forward crease, his brain hurting at the concepts being thrown at him suddenly, Canada flicked his eyes around the room, thinking, trying to debunk her theory, wanting to simply call her an insane bitch. "But...he had history with more people than just you. What about Poland, or Austria, or France, Germany, England..."

Hungary's eye roll only pissed him off more. "Oh, they don't count. Why on earth would they want to claim Prussian territory when _you_ hold it, hm? After all, they probably consider it Canadian territory."

"Because it is!" Matthew snapped. "He's mine!"

Elizaveta seemed a little confused at the response, but after a little pause, she glanced over Canada's shoulder once more, and smirked. "Oh, is he now?" Following her steps with his eyes, Canada watched as Hungary walked around him, moving to stand beside Prussia, even to interlock their arms and tug him close to her. "But he'll do whatever I say. Will he do the same for you?"

Feeling his blood boiling, Canada was about to shout an answer, when Gilbert finally spoke up. His red eyes were distant and his body seemed to be trembling, whether from the conversation or the fact that Hungary was touching him, Canada didn't know. His voice was quiet when it echoed in the air, too. Quiet. But strong. Decisive. Filled with intent.

Words that made Hungary freeze. "Lizzy, stop."

Seeing Hungary's shocked face, Matthew knew it was a big deal. A strong move. Something that showed Prussia was still in there somewhere. Besides, the red eyes seemed more alive than they had so far. And so Canada decided to hold his anger back some more and watch. Watch and wait to see if Gilbert would put the bitch in her place at long last.

"What did you just call me?" Elizaveta whispered.

Prussia actually pulled away from her, wincing slightly as he took his arm back. "_Lizzy_," he repeated, putting emphasis this time on the nickname. "Stop."

The blow came unexpectedly. A slap across the face, nails leaving red marks as they went. "_That_ is not my name!" She hissed, reaching out to grab and pull Prussia's hair, simultaneously pushing him down, forcing him quickly to his knees.

Feeling his held anger explode from its imprisonment, Canada sprang forward and grabbed at Hungary's hair, yanking her back. She screamed but he ignored it. He threw her to the ground, not caring at the sound it made as her body hit the floor, not caring for the cries she unleashed at the treatment she was not used to receiving. Once she was on the ground, he stood above her, and glared, pointing his finger at her as his eyes burned with the desire to kill her now.

Instead, he settled for a threat. "If you _ever_ hurt him again, I will nuke every last inch of your country and stand by as I watch you burn."

Not giving her a chance to respond, Matthew left her on the ground and spun on his heel to attend to the albino they were fighting over. Prussia was on his knees, hands in his hair, eyes on the ground, but he was muttering something over and over, something that sounded like apologizes to "Elizaveta," and he was crying again, as if the small slap had been enough to hurt him. Matthew had seen Gilbert withstand torture at the hands of the one-world-government; he couldn't believe that Prussia had really fallen this far.

He winced but held out his hand, causing the mumbling to stop as Prussia lifted his head to see who the hand belonged to, but those red eyes were empty again. The life he had seen earlier had been shattered once more. "Come on, Gil. Let's go home."

When Prussia lowered a hand and started to reach for Canada, Elizaveta had to interrupt from where she was recovering on the floor. "Gilbert, if you _dare_ to take his hand..."

Which caused Prussia to freeze midway, much to Canada's dismay. He could have reached out and pulled the albino up anyway. He could have forced Gil to leave with him. It wouldn't have been hard, not with his strength and anger fueling him to do whatever he felt like now. But he also understand what this moment meant. It was Prussia's last chance to make the right choice. Would he listen to Hungary and stay here? Or would he take Canada's offered hand of love and return to the one who actually cared?

Seeing as Prussia seemed to be having an internal battle, Canada chose to push him just a little. With a gentle whisper. "Come on, Gil. Come home. We all miss you. I miss you."

Red eyes looked up at him. A spark of a shine reflected in them and then the pale hand reached out and grabbed Matthew's, clasping tightly. A wave of relief flooded Canada as he pulled Prussia to his feet and continued to hold his hand. And then Gilbert leaned in and proceeded to wrap _him _in a hug.

And Gil responded with his own little whisper. "_Danke_, Birdie. _Ich liebe dich_."

~!~

_A/N: First of all, Happy Birthday to me. Turned 25 last Friday. Lol, I'm a quarter of a century now. That's kind of...gosh, I feel old._

_-When I was deciding whose point of view to write the first scene from, I remembered that, hey, I love writing from France's view point and he doesn't get much love so, lol, that's why France. _

_-Also, "where did Austria go?" right? Ah hah...ah hah...not telling...Besides, this is PruCan story. You're not supposed to care about what happens to Austria. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! (kudos if you get that reference)_

_-This scene with Prussia and Canada, while emotional in the role-play, did not hit me NEAR as much as this did. There's several reasons for that, but damn, sometimes I wonder if it's a bit overkill. And then I say. Ah. Romance/Drama. It's meant to be overkill. Cry, cry, and cry some more. Personally, I wish I cried more often. _

_-The confrontation Canada vs Hungary has been replayed several different ways in my mind, and this is what came out when I actually started to write it down. Once again, I went away from the role-play and completely made stuff up, because I wanted to keep the feel and the emotion and...well..._

_-Hey! Canada's being the strong one for Prussia now! ...he's also being a bit possessive now that he's made up his mind..._

_-Everything Hungary says about micronation status and whatnot is kind of jumbled and confusing and if you can follow it, then wow I'm impressed because she's supposed to come off a little crazy in that not-really-making-sense way._

_-Oh, and yeah, everyone else is hanging outside. Decided to let Canada handle it himself (okay well maybe they're hanging around the doorway but shhh)._

_~~Thanks for all reviews/favorites/alerts; it was about this time last year that I started writing One Month, and look where we are now; whether or not you've followed me from the beginning or recently discovered this series, I thank you wholeheartedly for putting up with my random updating schedule and moments of supposed hiatus; fear not, I will not abandon this story; summer time hopefully means faster updating, too, even though I'm in summer school (bleh)~~_

_~Reda_


	10. Chapter 10

**Author Notes****: **Okay, for this next part, let it be known that I "time-skipped" a wee little bit. (It's what my sister and I use to say, eh, speed up, description, blah, and now the characters are _here_). Except, there was stuff in the role-play here, but I condensed a lot of it down, seeing as a new chapter is a great place to do that! Besides, there isn't much more to the Canada vs Hungary – the climax was last chapter.

-For real, though, this is the winding down, the comic relief, the...well...rest and relax and enjoy for the next couple chapters. More humor. Less drama.

-Anywho, first part done. Second part, here we go! (And yes, yes I did go there)

-Shortest chapter yet. Damn, I'm sorry.

**Warnings****:**

-Sexual references

~!~

One Season

Part 2: Friendship Is Magic

Chapter 10

~!~

After reassuring Gilbert once more that he still loved him, that he forgave him, that everything would be okay if they left, Canada turned his attentions on Hungary. Standing his ground, holding his anger but keeping his fire, he made sure that Elizaveta understood her position. New Prussia – and Gilbert – was technically Canadian territory and anymore action against Gil would be considered action against Matthew and would be liable grounds for war. She tried to fight it, but Prussia was standing in Canada's shadow now, still absurdly quiet but now showing where his true loyalties lied.

Shortly after that lecture and threat, Canada made sure that Hungary released Prussia from the bonds. She did. The chains came off, revealing red, sore, broken skin underneath every cuff. Prussia hardly seemed to notice, not even rubbing at his wrists, just standing completely still and tense at Hungary being so close to him. The scene itself almost caused Matthew to break down, but he held strong and pulled Prussia out of the house, clinging to his hand as he grabbed the bag of Gilbert's things and led him to the friends waiting outside.

Cheers and sighs of relief awaited them. A little glomp from Italy that made Prussia tense up and forced Canada to push Feliciano away. Gently, of course. Germany seemed to still be worried, but at the look from his brother, Gilbert forced a grin and Matthew felt more at ease. Even if it was forced, it was halfway the smile he wanted to see so badly. It was something, at least.

As they made their way to Ludwig's car, the group had a short discussion on where everyone would be sitting. Canada declared that Prussia sit in the back next to the door, leaving Matthew to be the only one to sit next to him. He caught the raised eyebrow of Germany, but thankfully there was no argument. France, on the other hand, seemed more concerned with who would sit next to Italy, since it had been decided that Feliciano would be sitting up front in the middle seat next to Ludwig. A quick game of rock-paper-scissors was played to decide the winner between France and Spain, and Francis was declared the lucky winner.

With everyone settled in, Germany started up the car, and their long journey home began.

~!~

"Hey, Italy," France said as he put an arm around Feliciano's shoulders and started to pet the Italian's hair. "It has been so long since you last visited me. I have missed you."

Canada rolled his eyes. His Papa would never change. He instead turned his attention to Prussia, who was still holding on to the flute. The flute from Fritz. The flute Gilbert had been willing to give to Matthew. Actually, Gilbert was currently cleaning the silver instrument, having pulled a cloth out from the back of Germany's chair, like he kept a cleaning cloth readily available even in his brother's car. What was sad about the scene was the fact that even with his two crazy friends here Prussia was still being absurdly silent.

"Ve~ Sorry about that," Italy said as a response to France. "I've been having too much fun with Germany."

Prussia snorted. "Fun, eh, West?"

Canada blinked at hearing Gilbert's voice, not just at the fact that he had said something, but because there was an accent there he hadn't expected to hear. An accent that reminded him of home. Somewhat, at least. Heavy German accent mixed with a light Canadian. Strange to hear it from Prussia of all people.

"Si~" Italy giggled. "We've been having lots of fun."

"Oh that is not fair," France sighed, "Why can't you come over to my place once in a while? We could have lots of fun!"

"Nein!" Ludwig's sudden shout made Canada jump, but Prussia just chuckled.

A small chuckle, hardly noticeable. Without any teasing words to go behind it. When normally Prussia would tease anyone for anything that could possibly sound sexual, but now he was quiet. In fact, after packing the flute in its case and setting it at his feet, he even shut his eyes and leaned his head against the car window, like he was about to go to sleep.

"No," Italy said, "I don't want to have fun with anyone but Germany."

To which Spain grinned and added his voice to the conversation. "Aw~ That's so adorable ~ I wish my Romanito would say that."

"Aw, that's no fun," France huffed. He then proceeded to drop his hold on Italy and spin around in his seat, looking back at Spain, catching Canada's eye first and letting his face light up in a brilliant grin before focusing on his Spanish friend. "Toni, we should get together and play drinking games again. Sometime soon. You know, before Gilbert leaves with Mathieu back to Canada. How about it, Gil? You in?"

At the very thought of Prussia going out without him, he frowned and glared at France. "No, he's not going anywhere." His hand reached out and clutched tightly to Gilbert's, squeezing unintentionally.

Which caused Gil's eyes to flutter open halfway as he was pulled from his dreams. "Hm?"

"It's nothing, Gil," Matthew said, turning a smile to his albino. "Go ahead and sleep."

Prussia mumbled something back and did just as told. He was probably exhausted. There was no telling what Hungary had put him through these past few days, whether or not she let him have any proper sleep at all. Gilbert would need lots of rest. Peace and quiet. Which meant _not_ going out partying with his two crazy friends. Not now.

"Getting a bit possessive, aren't you?" France said.

Canada spun his eyes to his Papa, blinking at the very accusation. "What? Of course not."

"He's not really that bad," Spain shrugged.

And Italy chimed in with, "I think he has the right to be just a little possessive."

To which France shrugged, still facing the wrong direction in his seat. "I am just worried. Hungary was possessive, too, remember? Over possessive."

At the very comparison, Matthew flinched. He was _nothing_ like her. How dare Francis even think to -! "I'm not possessive!" He snapped. "I'm just trying to do what's best for him."

To which Antonio hummed. "Well, after everything, don't you think he needs some time with his friends to relax? Friendship is the best medicine, after all."

France actually seemed to find the statement strange, raising an eyebrow. "What? Where did you hear that?"

Spain shrugged, but before he could answer, Canada interrupted. He was _not_ going to deal with people talking over his head again. Not anymore. "It doesn't matter. I don't think he needs a crazy drinking party right now."

France's eyes rolled. "It doesn't need to be a 'crazy drinking party'as you put it. Just some alcohol and friends hanging out together." The man turned in his seat, facing Germany. "We could even use Germany's house."

"Why my place?" Ludwig asked, giving a quick glance to France before focusing on the road once more.

"Where else are we going to go?" Spain chirped as Italy began to giggle.

Germany merely groaned. "I guess Italy and I can go out for a while."

Which of course caused Italy to lean over, smile, and hug Ludwig. "Ve~ Yay! Where are we going, Germany?"

"It's a secret," Ludwig murmured, clearly not comfortable with this situation.

As the front of the car became a flurry of Feliciano being bubbly and the others commenting on things to make Ludwig blush, Canada turned to the sleeping albino. Gilbert groaned a little in his sleep and changed positions, moving away from the car door and instead leaning his head against Matthew. A bump in the road, and Prussia, still sleeping, moved to where the pale man's head now rested in Canada's lap. The position seemed not very comfortable, and if Gilbert had actually been wearing his seatbelt, he might have woken up, but all he actually did was mumble a bit in his sleep.

"Mmm...Birdie..."

Laughing lightly in a breath, Canada reached out to start petting the silver mess of hair, running his fingers through the strands, even as he marveled at how the albino could sleep in such an awkward, squished position. In a quiet murmur, he said, "I don't think I ever got the chance to thank any of you..."

"No need to thank us," France said with a smile. "You're the one that did all the work. It's all you, Mathieu."

Germany was a bit more practical, jumping at the chance to mention what he'd given to make this possible. "Technically, I could use some gas money. And my boss won't be happy to learn of the new tensions with Hungary." Of course, Ludwig wasn't without his emotions, either. "But France is right – we should be thanking you."

Canada smiled as he looked up. "But if it wasn't for you," he said as he looked at them each in turn. "I wouldn't have ever found him." His gaze moved back to Prussia, and he stroked the white strands of hair again, loving the feel of each one, as if he had forgotten. "I'm just so grateful to have him back."

He caught the sound of France turning back around in his seat, facing the correct way now. "I'm glad he chose you."

"Si~ Si~" Italy chirped. "I think you and Prussia are perfect for each other. Oh, also, I was wondering – is Prussia anything like Germany? Like, what kind of stuff does he like?"

At the question, France started to crack up. "Oh, you have _no_ idea. I'm curious to know what he's shared with you, Mathieu."

Canada just shook his head, keeping his head down, feeling his face getting warmer. This conversation was going somewhere he did not want to deal with, somewhere he still didn't feel comfortable simply chit-chatting about casually. True, his Papa had always been somewhat perverted and had let slip details to him when he was younger, so it wasn't like the conversation was _new..._just...something he preferred to keep to himself.

"You mean you two haven't had sex yet?" Spain's gasp of surprise earned another shake of the head.

"N-No! We have! It's just...everything we've done is pretty tame..." Canada could feel his curiosity start to burn, though. What were the other two talking about? What was it Prussia liked?

"Oh," Italy said, sounding disappointed. "So he's not like Germany?"

Ludwig, of course, was having none of it. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly and doing his best to ignore the entire conversation. At least, he seemed to know that there would be no way to control the words of two members of the Bad Friends Trio. Besides, Italy had been the one to start the conversation in the first place.

France, however, just started chuckling. "Oh hell, that's hilarious. Prussia is anything _but_ tame. Right, Toni?"

To which Spain nodded. "Si! He's like, the exact opposite."

France gave a cross between a laugh and a sigh, turning around in his seat as he started to list off Prussia's kinks, gaining the attention of both Canada and Italy. If the reason Prussia had been so easy to turn from him was because he wasn't sexually satisfied, then Canada wanted to know everything he could. Obviously there were things Prussia wasn't telling him, things the albino was keeping secret, and although it hurt to know it was also time he did what he could, gathered what knowledge he could, to make sure Gilbert would never leave him again.

"Let's see. He definitely likes to be dominated. Pinning him down with ropes or chains always seems to be a plus. He likes it when he's not in control, though he'll never, ever admit that out loud," France said, smirking as if enjoying some secret memory.

Spain nodded and laughed. "Si, he liked my food play that one time, you know. Had to get him drunk and tie him up to make him enjoy that, though."

France chuckled in response. "_Mon ami, _you are the weird one."

Italy giggled. "Germany always likes being the one in charge. But I can understand why Prussia would enjoy not having control. It's really fun when Germany blindfolds me~"

Judging by the tightening of Germany's hands on the steering wheel, this information was correct and embarrassing for Ludwig. He wasn't one to share his private life, and Italy was always rambling on about whatever he felt like. In fact, the Italian's attention was quickly taken by the German as they had a personal conversation in the front of the car.

Canada didn't care to listen in. Hearing Prussia humming in his sleep, Matthew was a little preoccupied. He smiled and continued to pet the silver hair of the albino currently resting in his lap.

Ignoring the couple just beside him, France continued. "You know. Hungary is supposed to be a good dominatrix, too. That's probably why she had him in that chain-collar-leash-get-up. She probably has tons of other toys that Prussia enjoys, too."

At the information, Canada bit his bottom lip and stared down at the albino in his lap. "I...I never knew."

To his surprise, the hair moved on its own as Prussia started to sit up, giving a yawn, and then smirking at them all. "Interesting conversation," he said, a little gleam in his red eyes, making Canada blush as he wondered what the Prussian had overheard.

Next to him, Spain laughed. "We were just telling Ita and Canada here about your favorite kinks!"

Prussia stared into space for a moment, as if he were thinking, but all that came out of his mouth was a quiet. "Ah," and then he turned back to staring out the window, separating himself completely from the conversation.

Which was rather worrisome, to be honest. Frowning, Canada reached out to grab a hold of one of the pale hands, squeezing it gently, forgetting the rest of the car was even there as he focused only on the albino. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Prussia turned to him, eyes wide. "What?"

_Why is he only giving one word responses? He's usually so much more vocal than this._

Still holding his hand, Canada looked up at the red eyes and kept his face serious, but tuned his voice to a more upset sound. "Why didn't you tell me about your kinks? How am I supposed to keep you here if you never talk to me? You love me, right? Then you're supposed to share your secrets with me. That's what you do when you love someone."

Several emotions flicked past those red eyes. Confusion. Hurt. "I..." A strange acceptance as he licked his lips and squirmed a little, as if the blue eyes staring back at him were judging. "I didn't want to scare you off."

And then there was an interruption. From Italy. "Hey, Canada, what are you going to do about World Meetings?"

To which Prussia actually scoffed and answered himself. "Keh. Who said I'm going back there?"

At first, Canada was happy to hear Gilbert speak back almost normally, but the words confused him. "But..I thought you liked having your own nation back."

Prussia shrugged and looked away, staring out the window again. "It's not really..." He drifted off, took a breath, and changed his words. "That Sealand guy is annoying."

"Sealand?" France said, spinning in his seat again. "Isn't he located off of England's territory?"

To which Canada nodded. "Oui, but I don't think he should really count...He doesn't even have any land."

Prussia grunted, but didn't say anything.

Germany added his own voice to the conversation with his own question. "How many micronations are there anyway?"

"I know that there's Seborga," Italy said. "He was just a city for a while."

Spain sighed. "I don't think I have any micronations."

Which actually got Prussia to react more like himself. The albino turned abruptly to face his Spanish friend, pressing up against Canada as he leaned in closer to Spain. The movement itself showed his startled state. "What do you mean _have_? How can you have a micronation? You say that like micronations belong to someone!"

Canada bit his lip. _Did you not pay attention to Hungary at all? Were you lost back there? So out of it you couldn't even hear what she was saying? Why she thought she had a right to do what she did? _

Italy was quick on the response. "Well, that is one way to look at it."

And France was quick to tease him about it. "Oui. That means you belong to someone, Gilbert."

Still acting like himself, Prussia leaned forward this time, almost as if by reaching France he could deny the subject matter they were discussing. "Don't I get a say in -"

"Gil," Matthew interrupted, grabbing one of the pale hands, squeezing it. "You belong to me."

The Prussian froze, pulling back, tensing as he turned his attention to Canada. Matthew was pleased to see the fire in the red eyes, the defiance, the part of Gil he really loved, the part that said no one would ever tie him down. The part that had gone missing these past few days. And as Canada looked on, the gleam began to die again.

"O-Oh," Prussia said, the loud defiance gone from his voice. "I belong to you, eh?"

Matthew blinked. That accent. Again. The Canadian lilt and phrasing mixing with Prussia's normal speech patterns. Was that because of the micronation status? Or was it just because he had lived with Canada for so long and it was only now that Matthew was really noticing the little things?

Still, he nodded. "Yeah. Me."

Prussia sighed and relaxed, flopping back in his seat. "I guess..." A small smile crossed his face. "I guess that's okay, then."

~!~

_A/N: I wrote this so haphazardly. Sent it off to my sister expecting major editing. And it's a lot shorter than I was expecting, too, but I can't force anymore. I think if I just pick up with the next chapter, I'll be able to write faster. For some reason, this gave me a lot of trouble. I think it's because it's the "coming down" part of the climax, and I'm not really good at those. Well, I don't have as much practice. I love the build up too much, I suppose._

_-ALSO: We're getting close to Review #100. Free one-shot request for the 100th review. I'll tell my sister not to snipe anymore, cause that's just not fair._

_Kairi – All I can say is you guys have NO idea what's coming up in the next couple chapters xD_

_~~Thank you for all reviews/alerts/follows/favorites/etc~I love you all so much~~_

_~Reda_


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